Reclaiming Innocence
by Angel Gidget
Summary: The Fantastic Four are dead. And custody of Franklin Richards goes to....Remy LeBeau? [Chapter 19 Up]
1. The Boy Left Behind

Author's Notes: It's been forever since I've picked up an issue of Fantastic Four, so no doubt any information I have on them will be outdated. I'm giving this story an AU twist since Franklin has not aged much from the time he was staying with Storm, Gambit, and the McCoys. For those of you who do not know when that was, it was in X-men Unlimited Issue number 14. That is the story (called "Innocence Lost") that inspired me to write this. I'll try to give a summary of the issue in the story before the main plot begins. This takes place (Franklin's incorrect age not withstanding) some time after Rogue and Gambit lost their powers and went for that road trip in X-treme.  
  
Disclaimer: I couldn't have twisted the story if Marvel hadn't written it first.  
  
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"Your mom...your dad...your family...not gone, Frank...you know dat...never gone...dey wit' you, son...inside you always..."  
  
~Gambit to Franklin Richards; X-MEN UNLIMITED #14 ________________________________________________________________________  
  
Chapter 1: THE BOY LEFT BEHIND  
  
It all began with Onslaught. The terrifying entity had sensed some sort of greatness in the child known as Franklin Richards. True, it had also been interested in the mutant known as Nate Grey, but that had been for a different purpose. It was the young son of the famous Invisible Woman and Mr. Fantastic that he had sought out for means of warping reality.  
  
It had done Onslaught no good. He eventually fell with his threat towards the world obliterated...but not before taking several of Earth's heroes-- including the Fantastic Four--down with him. All of this had left one scared boy all alone in the world.  
  
The X-men, in their ever-trying task of helping the world, took pity on the child. Franklin was then whisked away to a small farm owned by the parents of world-renowned geneticist and former Avenger, Henry McCoy. He was not alone there. He had not been opposed to making friends. Artie and Leach had been quite entertaining and those two other grown-ups, Mr. Gambit and Ms. Storm had been very nice, too. But there was still the loss.  
  
He wanted them back. Mommy, Dad, Unca' Ben, Unca' Johnny...he wanted all of them back. And so help him, he would get them back.  
  
He had concentrated on his own mindscape and Onslaughts. His child mind had concentrated on beginnings, trying to find out who was responsible for his hurting. Who had started it. He had found the imprint of two minds. The first was Charles Xavier. Mr. Xavier was supposed to be a good man, the leader of the X-men, so he couldn't have been the one who had taken the boy's mommy and dad away. But the second...Magneto. Or Joseph--it didn't really matter what the man called himself. Whoever he was, he *had* to be the one who knew the top-secret superspecial trick to getting everyone back. The thought clear in his mind, the young reality-warper wished the man to be there...and it was so.  
  
But Joseph did not feel guilty. He wouldn't--couldn't--fix it and make everything better. The boy's small understanding would not allow this. So he attacked the magnetic mutant, whipping his mind and surroundings into a relentless frenzy. That was when Gambit came.  
  
He watched the boy carefully, watching events unfold, but desperately hoping he would not have to get involved. Mostly because if he did, he would most surely get his clock cleaned. But Joseph was getting torn to pieces out there, and the boy was hurting so much...  
  
He stepped in.  
  
"I won't jus' stand by, lettin' you take on de very same burden of murder dad Joey here ain't even up t'. Let 'im go, Franklin."  
  
The boy was crying now, with tears streaming down his face.  
  
"G-go 'way, Gam'it...leave me 'lone--I don't want you here--I JUS' WAN' MY MOMMY AND DADDY!"  
  
At first, Remy LeBeau felt as though he would be split in two by the distortion of all that was real, as Franklin began attacking him too. But he knew what the boy had been through, and some how forced the words out--  
  
"Your mom...your dad...your family...not gone, Frank...you know dat...never gone...dey wit' you, son...inside you always...dat's why you can't do dis."  
  
The youth continued to cry...but this time, began trying to eliminate the build-up of energy that he had gathered. It was too much for his small frame, and the Beast arrived, bounding up to him, and whisking him away from the explosion.  
  
Somehow, Franklin Richards began to heal after that. No longer blaming Joseph for his predicament, Franklin continued his sabbatical on the farm. The X-men, however, were called away to fight the terrors of the world, and when done, returned to their mansion, once again leaving a little boy behind.  
  
But the child's healing, it seemed, was unnecessary. The Fantastic Four, apparently, did not die easy, and were soon reunited with the tiny mutant. The boy put his trauma in the past, and reveled in the future, even convincing himself that the story of their deaths had never been believed.  
  
But Reed Richards, Susan Richards, Johnny Storm, and Ben Grim had a tendency to live dangerous lives. And they had one of the deadliest enemies imaginable. His name was Doctor Doom. The man seemed to have their every move planned. Before the heroes knew what had become of them, they had been stripped of their abilities and sent on a one-way ticket into the past with not specific date given and no hope of ever returning. Once again, leaving a little boy behind.  
  
The Avengers investigated their allies disappearances, and decided to run a search to see if there had ever been someone stuck in such a situation that had made it back. They asked their former member, Hank McCoy to run the search. But the doctor didn't need to look any further than across the X- mansion's hallway. Gambit had managed to return from such a mission with his friend, Jacob Gavin.**  
  
But when Remy LeBeau was called to the scene, there was very little he could tell them. The Fantastic Four did not have the amplified bio-kinetic energies that he had possessed at the time. And he could not for the life of him describe the science of how he had returned. So he prepared to leave. He grabbed for his trench-coat, turning to see young Franklin sitting on the floor. He formed an expression of sympathy on his face and ruffled the boy's hair. He then walked out the door...only to find himself back inside.  
  
His head felt dizzy. Reality warp. Franklin did not want him to leave.  
  
Wanda Maximoff watched them. The boy seemed attached to the cajun. And there was no one else to take care of him. She whispered her concerns to Captain America. The Avenger's leader confirmed that young Richards had spent time with the X-men after his ordeal with Onslaught. He knew that Gambit had been one of them. Iron Man then spoke up;  
  
"I have Franklin's custody papers right here...I was ready to arrange for him to go to a well-run orphanage that I often finance...but it would probably be kinder to send him home with someone he knows."  
  
So before Remy LeBeau's hand even knew what it was doing, it had taken up a pen, scrawled it's owners name on the gardianship document, and taken the hand the hand of the small child who warped them all to the Garden District of New Orleans.  
  
It was only then that the Cajun thought to himself...'What de heck am I gon' tell de X-men?!' _______________________________________________________________________  
  
**If you want the details, it happened it the Gambit ongoing series.  
  
Author's Note: Whew! Don't know 'bout the rest of ya'll, but for me, that was a pretty long chapter! The next chapters won't be as long, but they'll only exist if you think it's worth continuing! So please tell me if I ought to do so! 


	2. Defining Home

Author's Note: Glad to see so many people liked it. Here's hoping you get as much from the next part! As a second reminder, in case any have forgotten, this takes place during the X-treme titles, and I'll use this chapter to clarify *where* in them.  
  
Disclaimer:  
  
Roses are Red  
  
Franklin is sweet.  
  
If I said they were mine,  
  
I'd be dead meat.  
  
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CHAPTER 2: DEFINING HOME  
  
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It was not an imposing house. It was a quiet little dwelling in the Garden District. So why did Remy feel so nervous about entering? Was it the fact that the X-men had expected him to return alone? Was it the fact that he didn't know *what* to expect from the little blue-eyed kid that was so desperately holding on to his hand? It was in this nervous state that Gambit turned the door knob leading to Rogue Darkholme's safe-house for the X-men.  
  
He met only silence.  
  
"Mr. Gam'it, where all alla the X-men?"  
  
He looked down at the boy.  
  
"Well, we be 'bout t' find out petite....an' please, call me Remy."  
  
He searched the house only to find that there was not a single X-man in the place. He breathed a sigh of relief. Fortune had smiled upon him, and he now had time to think of how he would explain his new-found situation. Yet he once again began to worry. Had a mission come up without him? If not at the house, where *were* all the others? He turned to the answering machine for the solutions.  
  
beeeep!   
  
"Storm, it's Bishop. Sage has found a lead on the murders and we're tracing a link to the Xavier Mansion. We think Emma Frost may be involved. This may take a while. We may not be able to report back for some time."  
  
beeeep!   
  
"Logan, this is Ororo. Lucas believes Emma to be involved with a scandal at the mansion. I know you want me to stay at the safe-house for therapy, but I *must* investigate this. I will return as quickly as possible."  
  
beeeep!   
  
"Watch the house, Cajun. Ya should be back from that Avengers mission by now. I've gone after Storm. If the house is in ashes by the time we get back, I'll dice ya six ways from Sunday."  
  
beeeep!   
  
"Storm? This is Neal. We've found Davis. He was beaten pretty badly by an anti-mutant gang. We've taken him to a hospital. Me and Heather have considered moving him to the mansion with the Shi'ar technology, but the doctors say he shouldn't be moved. We're staying with him till he recovers. Till then, we'll try to convince him to return. I'm not sure if he'll agree or not, so I guess we'll just have to see how the wind blows..."  
  
beeeep!   
  
"Hey Swamp-rat! Ah guess if ya'll are listenin' ta this, ya made it back from tha 'Vengers in one piece. Ah found out this mornin' that the fridge is positively bare. Gone out shoppin' ta help remedy that. Till then, feel free ta order yaself a pizza or somethin'. Ah'll be back in a few hours. Love ya!"  
  
bee--   
  
click.   
  
"Well, p'tite, look like we got de entire house t'ourselves, neh?"  
  
He turned to see the boy curled up in a corner, looking at his surroundings which seemed as if they would surely break if he touched them. Gambit's face fell.  
  
"Franklin...look...y'hurtin'. I know dat an' I know how it feels. But de pain, she can' rule ya. Y'can't let it."  
  
He lifted the child's face to meet his eyes.  
  
"An' I *want* you here. I know y' heard a t'ing or two of what Iron Man said 'bout sendin' ya ta an orphanage, but it ain' goin' happen. I won' let it. But, I'm goin' t'need y'help. I need y' t'try an' not shut me out. Dinner won't patch up y'soul, but it does de body an' de spirit good. So 'm orderin' a pizza like de lady said..."  
  
Silence.  
  
"Mr. Gam--Remy?"  
  
"Oui?"  
  
The boy's eyes widened, the beginnings of resolve starting to settle there.  
  
"Where's my new room?"  
  
Remy gave him a gentle smile.  
  
"Right dis way, petite."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"What's what?"  
  
"Petite."  
  
"Mean's lil' one."  
  
"Stop, then. I ain't lil'."  
  
He looked down at the small Richards.  
  
"Remy try an' remember dat."  
Rogue was tired. Such a simple little thing as shopping, and she was tired. A life without powers certainly took some getting used to. She hadn't thought about the fact that she didn't have super-strength as she began putting miscellaneous food items into the shopping cart. She now wished that she had, because that was an awful lot of grocery bags to carry. Perhaps, she mused, the cajun would be back, and able to help her.  
  
"Remy!" she called out to him, coming in from the door.  
  
There was the sound of running water upstairs. It was just the swamprat's luck to choose that *exact* time to take a shower. So much for a helping hand. She walked back out to the car. She opened the truck and pulled out one of the heavy bags....only to have it dissapear from her grasp. She looked down. All of the bags were gone. She ran back in doors.  
  
"Rem--!"  
  
"Hi."  
Rogue did a double-take. All the bags were placed on the coffee table, neatly in rows with a little blonde-haired boy sitting down next to them. He had a tiny hint of a smile on his face, as though he hadn't been expecting anything funny, but was somewhat amused by the surprise on her face. He also looked vaguely familiar...  
  
"Remy's takin' a shower. I thought ya could use some help, so I brought alla these in. Thought maybe I oughta help, since this is my new home an' ev'rything..."  
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Author's Note: Not too short of a chapter, I don't think. I hope I have ya'll intrigued. This chapter kinda helps you understand what the X-men's current situation is. As for Franklin, if anyone wants to give me information on his history with the Fantastic Four or suggestions of where the plot of this story could go (since I don't have it all planned out), I'm open to listening. I can't always use everyone else's ideas, but it will give me help with what to write. As for right now, whether you can come up with an idea or not--PLEASE REVIEW! ^_^ 


	3. Getting to Know You

Author's Notes: I haven't really written a long-continuing story on my own before, so I'm trying to be punctual with the updates. Hopefully, this won't affect the quality of my writing. I want to thank everyone who reviewed, and hope to mention some of their names in the next chapter. Right now, I'm a little pre-occupied with actually cranking out the chapters.  
  
Disclaimer: Rights to the characters? What are you looking at me for? The Kids WB stole way more from Marvel than *I* ever did! Go after them instead! [heads back to basement where she has deviously cloned every comic book character ever to enter existence; looks around and renews her plans for world-domination....]  
  
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CHAPTER 3: GETTING TO KNOW ONE ANOTHER  
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Remy LeBeau walked out of the shower refreshed. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he proceeded along the short trip to his room. He was intercepted by the sound of laughter echoing from the dining room. Her turned to see Rogue and Franklin peaceably chatting, making one another's acquaintance, with Rogue struggling to understand exactly *what* the child was doing in her home.  
  
"Bonjour, mes amis."   
  
Rogue and Franklin looked up, Rogue's face turning slightly red at Remy's lack of apparel. Remy smirked. He'd planned to greet the two and head straight for his room, but there was no point in hurrying if Rogue seemed to like what she saw.  
  
"Remy see y'two already met...so were y'talkin' 'bout me chere?"  
  
Rogue looked up to meet his eyes.  
  
"Hate ta break it to ya, sugah, but eve'ry one's life does *not* revolve aroun' ya."  
  
Remy's eyes twinkled with amusement.  
  
"Jus' yours, Roguie."  
  
Rogue raised her eyebrows. He hadn't called her that in a long time. But then again, Remy had been acting a little strange lately. And he *still* hadn't explained what young Franklin Richards was doing in the X-men's New Orleans home.  
  
"Franklin?"  
  
The boy looked up.  
  
"Could y' go unpack y' t'ings in y'room now? Rogue an' me gotta talk some borin' grown-up stuff."  
  
"Okay."  
  
Franklin headed back. His mommy and daddy had to talk about 'grown-up stuff' all the time. And he could usually tell when he was supposed to go play. If only he could stop thinking about how much he missed them.  
  
The boy knew that he could just as easily warp all his toys into their desired place, but he wanted to look at what he had brought. He had various children's toys; baseballs, a stuffed bear, a few action figures, some of his favorite puzzles and the like. He was more careful in handling some of the things that had been specifically made for him by his father.  
  
Reed Richard's scientific genius had more than one purpose. While he could make machines designed to cross dimensions, he just as often created advanced play-things for his son. A small robot for Franklin to figure out how to fix, a small anti-grav machine that could suspend the boy on air, and a mechanical dog that was activated by the child's voice alone.  
  
He began to take apart the robot. Looking at the various components, he threw himself into his work, trying to be strong like his father had taught him.  
  
  
  
Rogue smiled.  
  
"Sweet kid."  
  
"Yah, I know."  
  
"So what's the story, cajun?"  
  
"Didn' have anywhere else t'go. De reason de 'vengers called me up, was t'help dem retrieve de Fantastic Four. But I didn' have de know-how...or de power. So de least I could do was take deir kid wit' me. I *been* in dose orpahages before chere, an' Remy don' care if dey well-run...I wasn't goin' let dem get deir hands on de chile."  
  
Rogue nodded solemnly.  
  
"Ah'm with ya, Remy. But we're *still* goin' ta have ta explain this ta the rest o' the X-men."  
  
Remy sighed.  
  
"An' Remy *still* don't know how de heck he s'posed to do dat."  
  
"Well, then we might as well not worry 'bout it right away. What's tha legal sitch with y'all?"  
  
"Remy be de petite's official guardian. Unless someone related t'him comes 'long, de can't take him away from me."  
  
"Well at least we know that no one's goin' ta force him inta the institute."  
  
Remy frowned.  
  
"Y'tink dey'll try an' make him? Jean been pretty fanatical 'bout fittin' as many mutant teachers an' students int' dat mansion as she can lately."  
  
Rogue reached for his arm.  
  
"She can't force him if she don't know he's here, Rem. An' for now, we can just keep it that way."  
  
He placed his arms around her.  
  
"What would dis poor ol' cajun do wit'out ya, cherie?"  
  
"Prob'ly die o' boredom, Ah reckon." She lifted her lips to kiss him.  
  
He deepened the kiss, only to have Rogue push him away with a smirk on her face.  
  
"Nice try, swamprat. Now go put a shirt on!"  
  
Remy smiled, then trudged over to his room to comply.  
  
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Author's Note: Short chapter, I know. But hopefully, the next one won't be long in coming. I plan to have quite a bit of WAFF in the next chapter. For those of you not in the know, WAFF is Warm And Fuzzy Feelings. Basically, sentimental mush. But this story can still take many directions, and I most certainly am open to reviews...so please do so now! ^-^ 


	4. Pretense

Author's Notes: Hello and welcome to chapter 4!  
  
Jean1--I'm glad you're loving it. But you may discover that Franklin's high-tech toys are there for a reason....  
  
kaosda-- Of course Rogue doesn't mind him being there! (You'll get a better idea of why this chapter) As for the title, this fic is called 'Reclaiming Innocence' for 2 reasons. First, the premise of this story comes from X-men Unlimited ish.#14 which is called 'Innocence Lost'. Second, when Franklin's parents died, he 'lost' his childhood. Gambit and the X-men are there to help him through his pain and 'get back' a portion of his childhood or 'innocence'.  
  
Evilerk73-- Be careful what you wish for reguarding Rogue...YOU JUST MIGHT GET IT!  
  
Neurotic Temptress-- Don't worry, Remy's not in a towel this chapter, so you should be able to review it properly! (And as for Franklin's 'mother-figure'....READ ON!)  
  
Wishful Thinking-- Here's you other chapter and it's got plenty of WAFF.  
  
T.-- Here's more.  
  
Taurus-- Too-rah....Hmmmm, an interesting new world to add to my vocablulary.  
  
Bronny--Franklin sure beats a vacuum sweaper, doesn't he?  
  
TO THE PEOPLE I MISSED: You know that I'm grateful for your reviews too! (and if you review this chapter, I probably won't miss you next time. ^.~)  
  
Disclaimer: Ok, so you Marvel guys wanna keep Rogue...I can understand that. How about Franklin? Can I have Franklin? No? Rats. Gambit? Can I pretty please with sugah on top keep Gambit? No? Dang it!  
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CHAPTER 4: PRETENSE  
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Despite what he was expecting, Franklin Richards did not have nightmares about his parent's death that night. How could he, when he couldn't even sleep? Ororo Munroe had not returned from her mission against Emma Frost, so the wind-rider was not present to halt the storm that weathered about the house.   
  
The cracks of thunder and flashes of lightning frightened the boy, and forced him to hide underneath the bed sheets. The fact that a thunderstorm was thundering outside did not frighten him so much as the fact that a thunderstorm was thundering outside and he was *alone*. He did not want to be alone. His first thought was that he wanted his mother. The second thought was that she was already dead. Around the third thought, he figured that he'd settle for Remy. But Remy was probably sound asleep like most grown-ups were during the scary storms.  
  
Franklin hugged his stuffed bear tight, wishing the storm to go away. Unfortunately, another boom of thunder broke his concentration sending him hiding under the bed once again. Finally making up his mind, the young Richards ventured forth from his room.  
  
Holding his bear close, he slowly tredded the dark hallway in search of Remy's abode. The cajun had shown the boy where everyone slept, just in case he should need to talk to someone. And the boy definitely needed someone now. Finally turning the corner, he found Gambit's sanctuary.  
  
But the door was closed. Franklin paused. He was a brave child, but still a child. And like children across the world, a closed door in a dark hallway during a frightening storm set loose the imagination. He pictured monsters under the bed, and creeping goblins behind closed doors. And this was one such closed door. He turned in search of a more welcoming entry-way.  
  
He did not have to venture far till he found a door--opened a crack--with a small glow shining forth from it. He peaked in. Rogue lay comfortably stretched out on her bed, reading a small paper-back to the lamp light. She toyed with the strap of her night-gown as she mouthed the words of her book.  
  
He pushed the door a bit further, only to have it creak under his hand. Rogue turned quickly, instantly alert for any danger. Her muscles relaxed upon seeing the frightened boy.  
  
"Hey, Sugah. What're ya'll doin' up so late?"  
  
The boy stood there awkwardly, unsure if it was a question of why or an invitation to enter.  
  
"Miss Rogue? I, uh, ummm.."  
  
"Jus' Rogue, honey."  
  
The boy blurted out his thoughts.  
  
"C'n I stay here until the storm goes 'way?"  
  
She gave a surprised, yet delighted smile.  
  
"O course!"  
  
She moved over on her bed, making room for him. Patting the space next to herself, she beckoned the boy over. Franklin hopped onto the springy mattress, holding his bear tight. He flinched as another roll of thunder hit outside. Fearing the next round of outermural noise, he grabbed Rogue's arm and placed it around himself, feeling a sense of security from the self-created hug.  
  
Rogue shifted her position. Soon realizing that she would not be finishing her novel with the small boy hogging her arm, she set the tome down and turned off the light. When the thunder rolled, causing the boy to hug her even closer, she did not resist. She knew he wasn't her child. She knew also that he probably wanted his mother right now, seeing her as a substitute.  
  
She didn't mind. Before Franklin, Remy had been the only one not afraid of her touch. The others, thought they did it less and less often, automatically flinched at the brush of her skin. Despite this, Rogue continued to entertain hopes for the future. Thoughts of home. Thoughts of Remy. Thoughts of starting a family of their own.  
  
She hugged the boy close. He wasn't hers, but just for tonight--she could at least pretend.  
  
  
  
The night was still. The only disturbance was the sound of four X-men returning home. Bishop, Sage, Storm, and Wolverine slowly entered into their home, ready for a long nights rest in their respective beds.  
  
Logan sniffed the air. The Cajun was home. Everything smelled alright except for a scent that he couldn't seem to recognize....  
  
Rrrr-ARK!  
  
"ARRRRGGHH!"  
Remy Lebeau awoke to the sound of Logan's roaring. Hurrying down the hallway, he rushed to the entry-way and turned on the light. It was one of the most pathetic sights he had ever seen.  
  
There was the great Wolverine screaming like a mad-man with a tiny mechanical puppy biting into his leg. If it weren't for the daggers in the Canadian's eyes, Remy would have burst out laughing.  
  
The X-men gathered around Remy awaiting and explaination.  
  
"Hope ya got a good excuse fer this, Cajun...'cause these metal teeth hurt an' I'm waitin' ta flamin' take it out on somethin' made o' flesh and blood."  
  
"De puppy ain't mine, mon ami...b'longs t'Franklin"  
  
"Who's Franklin?"  
  
Remy gulped.  
  
"He's m'ward...."  
  
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Author's Note: Neurotic Temptress is not the only writer on FF.N who can write a cliff-hanger. For the record, reviews give me motivation to write faster. (hint...hint....^.~) 


	5. Demanding Explanations

Review Response  
  
kaosda-- Rogue and Remy aren't sleeping together yet, because they aren't married yet. Sorry if that sounds old-fashioned to you, but I'm a Christian and I believe in the bonds of marriage. But if I manage to get enough Rogue, Remy, and Franklin bonding into this fic, our resident Cajun and southern belle may tie the knot yet! As for 'Remy Essex LeBeau', it's a pleasure to review it. ^-^  
  
Evilerk-- Rogue is my favorite character of all the X-men and will definitely be playing a major part in this fic. I had originally planned for it to be centered around Remy and Franklin but it's becoming harder and harder for me to prevent Rogue from being one of the core characters. As for Franklin picking up Remy's habits, we'll just have to wait and see. ^.~  
  
Nurotic Temptres-- Harmless...right. Yeah. Sure. [rolls eyes] On another note, I will definitely get around to some Rogue, Remy, Franklin bonding. Get around to it eventually, that is. ^.~ As for Wolverine, he's lucky to have a healing factor, 'cause those little robotic puppy teeth are sharp!  
  
T.-- Hope this qualifies as soon fer ya! (Though I doubt it.)  
  
Wishful Thinking-- I want to congratulate you for being the first person to ever flame me. I've never been flamed before, and it's a unique experience. I suppose I could've written it a bit mushier, but I was in a hurry to finish the chapter so I could get my homework done. To answer your question, Remy was gulping because he was uncertain of how the X-men would react to the news. And as Neurotic Temptress has informed me, it never was a cliff-hanger anyway. It was a 'little suspenseful ending note'.  
  
Jean1-- Glad you see the logic of my devious little mind's plot-thoughts.  
  
Coreinha-- Here's what happens next!  
  
Bronny-- Why, of course! Don't you know that having a mechanical puppy attached to the leg of your feral self is the most sensical thing in the world? And as you can see, I kept going. ^.~  
  
Disclaimer: If you think I own them, then you have obviously been misinformed of my level of creativity.  
  
CHAPTER 5: DEMANDING EXPLAINATIONS  
  
"He's your what?" Bishop blinked, trying to process the information.  
  
"M'ward. I signed de guardianship papers the ot'er day."  
  
Storm looked at him questioningly.  
  
"Do you mean to tell me, my friend, that this...thing...is a child's toy? And that this child is right now in our home?"  
  
"Yup."  
  
"Remy LeBeau, whatever possessed you to do this?"  
  
Remy sighed. He might have known that they would not take the news well.  
  
"It was eit'er wit' me, or de orphanage. T'me, dat ain' no choice."  
  
"But to bring a child into our dangerous way of living...how is the boy to handle how we go out daily fighting villains? How he could always be in peril of capture from one of our enemies? Of how..."  
  
Sage glanced carefully at the expressions on Gambit's face. She then examined the faces behind the Cajun X-man. The faces of a frightened child and a sleep-deprived southern bell. She then interrupted her leader.  
  
"But this isn't a normal boy, is it Remy?"  
  
"Non, he be Reed Richard's son."  
  
He explained to his old friend.  
  
"Y'see Stormy, de petite been livin' like dat his whole life. I ain't brought him int' anyt'in he ain't braved b'fore. An' besides--"  
  
"I already tol' you, I'm *not* a 'petite'."  
  
Remy turned to see young Franklin. The boy stood there with his teddy bear in one arm with his other hand grasping tightly to Rogue. He carried an expression of annoyance on his face, one of disdain for the nick-name, and for his lack of slumber. His face brightened at the sight of the wind- rider.  
  
"Hiya, Miss Storm...do ya remember me?"**  
  
Ororo squinted here eyes, till finally, recognition dawned on her countenance.  
  
"Why yes, child. Indeed I do. I merely needed to associate your name with your face."  
  
A growl surfaced from the corner of the room.  
  
"If yer all done playin' family reunion, this knucle-head could use a little help?"  
  
Wolverine gestured to his leg...to which the mechanical canine was still firmly attached. Franklin's face turned a slight red.  
  
"I'm sorry Mr. Logan--Here Robo-Ben! Here boy! Stop botherin' the grouchy man..."  
  
Robo-Ben, as the metallic toy was apparently called, released the Canadian's leg, trotting over to it's master. Franklin smiled.  
  
"Good boy! You d'serve some oil for that...Rogue? Can ya come with me up to my room and help me give Robo-Ben some oil? It's his favorite treat."  
  
Rogue hesitated, uncertain if Remy would want her to leave. She saw him nod his consent, he could take it from here. She smiled at the young boy.  
  
"Ah'd be glad to, Franklin." They then wandered over into the boy's bedroom.  
  
Remy was the first to speak.  
  
"Please, ev'ryone...here Remy out b'fore y'go condescendin' m'judgement. De kid's got *no one*. De 'vengers had no way of findin' any o' de Richard's other relatives and de boy wasn' respondin' t' deir attempts t'help. I didn' intend t' bring him here. But he wouldn' leave wit' anyone else. I know dat life wit' de X-men be dangerous, but most o' de real big baddies been goin' after Warren's team. F' de most recent notice, we on break. An' de kid NEEDS some kinda stability. He's lost ev'ryt'ing. I might not be y'first choice t'act as de kid's pere, but he be latchin' on t'me, an' I need dis. Non jus' f'him....but f'me too."  
  
"Remy?"  
  
"Stormy?"  
  
"Must you feel the need to justify *every* action to us? Do you think we wouldn't understand once you've explained who and what the child is? And who said you would make a poor father figure? I believe that you are right. It seems that you need Franklin as much now as he needs you."  
  
Remy's tense muscles sagged in relief. He had been so afraid that they wouldn't understand...  
  
"Merci, Stormy...can' t'ank y' enough..."  
  
"Well, my friend, you may start by no longer calling me that ridiculous nick-name..."  
  
"But why with us? Why not at the mansion with Jean and the Professor along with all the other mutant children?" Bishop asked.  
  
Remy tensed. He had been desperately hoping this wouldn't be brought up.  
  
"Stability, Lucas." Sage replied. "Franklin Richards has been severely traumatized, and being surrounded by the loud atmosphere and influence of the mansion would upset him further."  
  
"Decide whatever ya flamin' want to 'bout the kid, I'm goin' out on the town. Anyone up fer comin' with me?"  
  
"I would love to go about and enjoy New Orleans this time of night."  
  
"Nothin' doin', darlin'. Yer goin' ta bed and gettin' some rest fer those injuries that ya ingnored in ya last fight."  
  
"Slavedriver."  
  
"Nighty-night ta ya, too."  
  
Bishop re-adjusted his coat about his shoulders.  
  
"I'm your man, then. Might as well try this 'loosening up' that Gambit's so anxious to have me try."  
  
He gave the Cajun a small smile as he walked alongside Wolverine out the door. Storm sighed her frustration before giving Remy a small peck on the cheek, as she wearily wandered down the hall to her room. He turned to his last companion.  
  
"T'ank y', Sage. Remy was almos' t'inkin' dat dey really would send de petite away."  
  
"There's no sense in thanking me, Remy. I only did the sensible thing to do."  
  
She noted his puzzled expression.  
  
"I'm an analyst, Remy. I sense that Franklin's place is here. At the mansion, his fate could take many directions. Not all of which are beneficial. He would be under many influences; the Professor, Jean Grey, Emma Frost, and the various students besides. There is much in that place to disturb a boy of his fragile emotional state. And such a high level mutant cannot afford to live with that sort of threat to his psyche."  
  
Remy watched her leave, jarringly reminded of the heavy responsibility now weighing on his shoulders.  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: My most sincerest apologies for not updating earlier. It was due to a combination of laziness, school, and old-fashioned writer's block. That's why I'm welcoming ideas from all of ya! So please review and tell me what direction I could take with this plot. PS. I'll try to be faster with the next update. 


	6. Namecalling

Author's Notes: I want to appologize for the incredibly long wait you all must have suffered. I'm very sorry and hope I don't have this problem in the future seeing as how it's now summer vacation. As for my excuse, I place the blame for my writer's block on the Final Exams of my school. And now here are the shout-outs:  
  
Lucky439--I'm glad you love it, I know I didn't update soon, but I hope it's still awesome.  
  
Evilerk73--I'm glad you like Rogue! Yes, I am using the X-treme team. No, there isn't 'something going on' with Storm and Logan, but I *do* have a romantic sub-plot in the works for Ororo, but that's only if I don't get too bogged down with the main plot-line concering Franklin, Remy, and Rogue. We'll see how it goes. (Hint: Look at my shippages in my bio.)  
  
Nurotic Temptress--Ok, so I have some pretty pathetic excuses for not updating, but how does Final Exams sound? Because I'm pulling hairs off my head from the tention of not knowing if I survived my Latin class or not. But despite it all, I have provided you with this chapter....you could at least say 'thank you'. {gives sad puppy dog eyes}  
  
Wishful Thinking--Thanks for being so understanding about the lack of updates. As for standing up to my beliefs, thank you. It's so hard find people who support me in this long life journey of living by a moral code. For this reason, I've always considered myself a family writer. I don't believe parrents should have to be afraid of their kids reading any of what I write. X-men should be enjoyed by all, not just a select few. As for story plot lines, thank you for the compliments and commentaries. They're incredibly appreciated.  
  
Darkthedestroyer--I'm glad to have another person who enjoys my work. I understand about not reviewing often, I have a hard time getting around to it as well. As for the Doc Doom plot-line...I JUST MIGHT END UP USEING IT! I'm not certain for the moment, but it sound like a really good idea. I thought of using a plot-line involving Sinister, but I know it's been done a thousand times...Doom however...sound pretty original. Kudos to ya for thinking of it.  
  
T.--As you can see, Remy has given a great deal of thought about Franklin warming up to the other members of the team...he even deals with it this chapter!  
  
Tidmag--I'm glad you like it more than you thought you would. As for justifying his actions, Remy's had a lot of trust issues with the X-men in the comics, more so than in the original animated show. By the little conversation with Storm, I showed that the X-men have learned to trust him, and are proving that trust by encouraging his raising of Franklin. As for Fantastic Four, I'm really not sure of what I'll do with 'em yet. I don't feel that I'd be able to write them very well, so I'm thinking of never bringing them back. But, that's yet to be decided so the Richards, Grimm, and Storm still have a chance so far.  
  
escape_into_a_daydream-- I also, have had a difficult time finding stories where author's decided to keep those two southerners apart till they tied the knot. But from your review, I now know that we're not alone, there just aren't many of us. Thank you for your immensly encouraging review and commentaries. Here's hoping that you enjoy this next dose of 'cajun spice'! (Sweet web name by the way, I do it all the time.)  
  
____________________________  
  
CHAPTER 6: Name-calling  
  
____________________________  
  
____________________________  
  
"Robo-Ben. That's like Ben Grimm, ain't it? The Thing o' the Fantastic Four?" Rogue asked in Franklin's room.  
  
Franklin nodded solemnly.  
  
"Uh-huh. Unca Ben sometimes liked to stay up late jus' watchin' out for alla us. Robo-Ben does the same thing for me, so I named him after 'im."  
  
"Do ya give names to any of ya othah toys?"  
  
"I gotta bear I named after unca Johny, but that's it. The rest of 'em have names that always end up changeing. 'Cept for my new computer. I couldn't guess what I wanted to name it, but I do now."  
  
"An' what's that, Sugah?"  
  
He smiled.  
  
"Roguemy."  
  
She smiled back.  
  
______________________________  
  
The next day, Remy carefully watched Franklin's reaction to the other X-men. He seemed to like Storm enough, remembering her from his time with the McCoys. He didn't seem to mind Sage or Wolverine much, seeing as how Wolverine avoided him because of the mechanical dog and Sage--as the boy had said--'didn't do much of anything'. But with the way the dark man never smiled and toted around his large XSE gun 24/7, Bishop seemed to frighten the boy a bit.  
  
Remy pondered this. For the moment, the X-men were here to stay, and it wouldn't do for Franklin to be living in a house filled with people he was scared of. If only he could get them to bond a little...  
  
"Bish?"  
  
"LeBeau?"  
  
"Y' t'ink y' could take Franklin out f'ice-cream today? De rest of us gon' be busy, and de kid needs a lil' free time."  
  
Bishop glanced at the boy. Remy blinked at the man's facial expression. Was that intimidation he saw there?  
  
"Why don't you do it?"  
  
"Got a date wit' Rogue t'day."  
  
"*All* day?"  
  
Remy winked and put his hand to the side of his mouth, as if to confide a secret.  
  
"Aniversary of our firs' date t'day...she t'inks I forgot."  
  
"Why not Storm?"  
  
"She got therapy, 'member?"  
  
"Wolverine?"  
  
"Helpin' her wit' it."  
  
"Sage?"  
  
"She'd analyze de ice-cream an' tell him 'bout all de fat dat's in it, an' why a kid should't be eatin' it. Y' t'ink I wanna put him t'rough dat?"  
  
Bishop sighed.  
  
"I suppose not."  
  
Remy smiled.  
  
"Merci, mon ami. Have a bon time!"  
  
Once he was alone, Bishop sighed again. A child? How was he supposed to entertain a child for however so many hours? He'd never had a childhood, how was he supposed to know how to manage one? Bishop looked over at the boy. He was at eye-level with him, seeing as how the young Richards was floating above his anti-gravity toy. Finally, he gathered his courage and trudged over to the youth.  
  
"This way, Franklin. Remy's asked me to take you out for ice-cream."  
  
The boy leaned back on the anti-grav field.  
  
"Do I havta?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Ok."  
  
Bishop frowned. It did not make sense to him that the boy should agree to quickly to his commands. He then realized the child's nervous glanses towards the private XSE arsenal that he constantly kept on his person. Bishop sighed. The last thing he wanted was to have the boy's cooperation through fear. Slowly and painstakingly, he removed his most prized posessions from his trench coat. The lack of artilery seemed to set Franklin a bit more at ease as he took the large man's hand to follow him out the door. Despite this, the time-displaced mutant made sure to carry to hiddent pistols on his person...just in case of trouble.  
  
_______________________________  
  
"Don't get me wrong, Sugah...Ah *love* a night out as much as the next gal...but *why* are we here again?"  
  
Rogue sipped her wine glass as she gazed across the table to her love. He had been acting rather strangely of late and she struggled to hear his explaination over the blaring TV set above the bar a few feet away within Harry's Hidaway.  
  
"We're verifyin' an alibi."  
  
"An' that alibi is?"  
  
"Dat t'day is de aniversary of our firs' date an' dats why I need Bishop to take a Franklin off our hands f' a lil' bondin' time."  
  
"What gave ya the idea that they needed bondin' time?"  
  
"De two of 'em seemed a bit jittery 'round each ot'er...figured they ought t'learn t'play nice. An' besides, y'not de only one who enjoys a bit of quiet time wit' pleasant comp'ny."   
  
He flashed her a disarming grin as he gently took her glove-less hand in his own. "B'sides, Chere," he continued, "We been needin' a talk f' some time now, oui?"  
  
Rogue smiled. It hadn't always been like this. She could still barely believe at times that she was hearing his voice, soft and lulling to her ears, as it told her of his feelings and the things he knew to be true. Gone was the distrust of previous years, and in its stead, had grown an ever-strengthening bond. The emotions he made her feel no longer frightened her, so there was no need to pull away. The things she asked of the man no longer threatened him, so there was no temptation to lie to her. It was not the fact that he had asked to talk that had left her in awe, it was that he had made the request so easily, and with a constant love and trust in his voice and eyes. Finally, she regained her own sense of speach.  
  
"Ah reckon you're right, Sugah. Been far too long since we've been able to carry a decent two-person talk, an' it's high time we remedied that."  
  
Remy gave an outward grin as he nervously rubbed his free palm against his knee beneath the table. It wasn't that he wanted a misleading conversation with Rogue, simply that he didn't know how to breach the subject he really wanted to talk about. They'd never discussed it, and he'd only done it once before in his life. Even then, it had already been arranged for him. He stuck his hand in his trench-coat pocket. He cautiously played with the blue velvet box he kept there. Why couldn't this be as easy as it looked in the movies?  
  
"An' speakin' of remedies, are ya'll alright, Remy? Ya look a little pale. An' ya've seemed a lil' bit jittery yaself in the past few days."  
  
"S'not'in much, chere. Jus' had a lot on m'mind. Dat's all. But one o' de t'ings I been t'inkin' about, was our long term plans f' de future."  
  
"Ya mean Franklin's education?"  
  
"Non, What I mean t' say..."  
  
He slowly slipped the blue velvet box from his pocket.  
  
"Is dat I'm dyin' t'know if y'd do dis poor Cajun de honor of..."  
  
He was interruped by her wide-eyed glance over his shoulder, and turned around to look at the TV posted above the bar. It was a live-coverage report, and what he saw was enough to make his jaw drop.  
  
____________________________  
  
It had started out innocently enough. He had bought the boy the ice-cream as promised, a chocolate-raspberry flavor from the looks of it. Franklin had finally devoured the cone and had wondered off a ways to search for a trash can to throw away the paper that had been around the cone part.  
  
Bishop, keeping an eye on the boy, had not noticed where he was walking himself. He bumped straight into an old woman who apparently, was in a particularly grouchy mood that day. She smacked him with her purse for his audacity, and continued to shout and scream at him for his carelessness. The scene had even gathered its own crowd of viewers.  
  
Franklin, meanwhile, had finally found a place to dispose of the sticky ice-cream covered paper. Seeing that his adult companion was busy, he had proceeded to the nearby play ground. He didn't enjoy it for long.  
  
It took the young Richards a few minutes to realize that he wasn't welcome. The children there were far bigger than he was and saw no reason to show any kindness to this strange kid who now threatened their space. Slowly but surely, Franklin began to feel that he was being circled. He looked around, franticly. He noticed the huge set of monkey bars on the far side of the play ground. He began to wish it would entrapped the children as they entrapped him.  
  
The boy's wish was fate's command as the hostile youngsters found themselves entangled in a mesh of red-painted metal bars. They screamed for their parrents and directed the gathered crowd away from Bishop and the old woman.   
  
The older mutant looked up from the lady to his young responsibility and hastened to his side. But it was too late to do much. He couldn't fire on a crowd of civilians to protect the boy from the cries of "mutant" that brushed the lips of the spectators. Just when the man thought things couldn't possibly get worse, he realized that there were news cameras in the crowd and that Franklin had disapeared.  
  
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*  
  
Author's Notes: *Sigh* What is it with me demeaning the toughest fellas on the team? Wolverine gets bitten by a pup, Bishop getting smacked with an old lady's purse...I guess it's just another form of insanity for me. What? Ya'll are mad about Rogue and Remy? Blame Neurotic Temptress. This is her personal punishment for all those chapters filled with cliff-hangers. (gives sugary-sweet smile) Now get to work, kittens! Reviews tell me you want another dose of this fic! ^-^ 


	7. Gang Aft Agley

Author's Note: Once again, it seems, I have several things to apologize for. First of all, being late. I am in an exhausting summer school class called foundations in P.E. It consumes my mornings and makes me tired in the evenings. But I'm half-way through the class and once I finish, I should have more free time and more energy. Second of all, the chapter isn't as long as I meant for it to be. I knew I was taking too long, and thought I could make up for it by giving ya'll a longer chapter. I did this only to discover that the longer I made it, the more time it took and I was robbing my readers of a much-awaited chapter. Third, I accidently stated that Rogue and Remy were at Harry's Hideaway. I'll clear that mistake when I can, but I momentarily forgot they were in New Orleans and that the only Harry's Hideaway in the MU is in New York. Fourth and finally, an absolutely insane chapter name. It's an old Scottish expression meaning 'goes awry' originated by the Scottish poet Robert Burns. I thought that it was befitting the events of the story. Now here are the review responses!  
  
Wishful Thinking-- Why oh why oh why oh WHY do you have some unsatiable need to mess with peoples timing in their love lives?? Not only is that what fanfic writers do, but it's so much fun. Plus, this fic wasn't getting enough angst. So I fixed it. But don't worry, I'll eventually fix my fix.  
  
Lucky439-- As you can see this chapter, Franklin isn't the one in trouble.  
  
Neurotic Temptress-- It's been forever and a day since you wrote a clif-hanger, because when you wrote that review, it had been forever and a day since you had written a chapter! And with Hazard? THAT WHOLE FIC WAS A CLIFF-HANGER! Yes, I am a sneaky sneaky wench and consider last chapter *my* retaliation. The Insanity lives on!  
  
T.-- Perfect. There'll be more Rogue/Remy stuff for ya and well as some more abuse of Bishop.  
  
PS: If anyone wants to be on my personal update list (inspired by Neaurotic Temptress) then please email me or say so, leaving your email in a review.  
  
Disclaimer: I have kidnaped these characters and shall continue to hold them hostage until Marvel agrees to my wishes....a life-time supply of X-men comic books!  
  
____________________________  
  
CHAPTER 7: GANG AFT AGLEY  
  
____________________________  
  
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RING!  
  
Her muscles tensed.  
  
RING!  
  
She lifted her head.  
  
RING!  
  
She looked towards the phone.  
  
RING!  
  
Sage seriously considered not answering the telephone. It was highly unlikely for it to be anyone other than Jean. And should it be Jean, as it most likely was, she would demand an explanation. If she demanded an explanation, she would wonder why she hadn'tbeen informed earlier. If she wondered this, she--and the entire home team--would begin to wonder if any of Ororo's team were truly worthy of their trust anymore. If they wondered this, it would only spell out trouble for everyone.  
  
RING!  
  
And yet, if she didn't answer the phone, it would give the home team even more reason to worry. And perhaps, reason enough to send a team out to 'check' on them. Either that, or it would simply be a serious breach of protocol.  
  
RING!  
  
"Hello, this is the Darkholme residence, how may I help you?"  
  
"Sage!"  
  
"Neal?"  
  
"I hope you got our earlier message, because we finally talked to Davis and he's coming home with us!"  
  
_____________________________  
  
Lucas Bishop was overwhelmed with an uncommon wave of emotions. Uncommon for him, at least. First of all was the guilt. Protecting Franklin had been his assigned duty and he had be so busy being polite to the woman that he had failed in this simple task. In the XSE, he would have immediately kicked out any man under his command that had done such a thing.  
  
Second, was the sense of wonder. How could a boy of such power be so fragile? What was more, how in the world was he supposed to survive much less maintain a low profile on his own?  
  
But the final emotion, was an incredible sense of fear. Gambit would surely have his head for this. What was more, he had every right to lop it straight off his shoulders. Equally strong as his worry for Franklin, was his worry of LeBeau's reaction. If the Cajun did decide to bring the fight to physical blows, Bishop wouldn't feel right in defending himself.  
  
Shaking his head from his reverie, he looked up to realize that he was still surrounded by the awe-struck crowd. Pushing his way through the sea of on-lookers, reporters, and cameras, he finally made it to his motorcycle.  
  
Flipping open his cell phone, he dialed up Sage. It would be easier dealing with her that with Remy. Human computers never seemed to hold you responsible for anything....  
  
______________________________  
  
Remy LeBeau was still watching on in shock at the news report in restaurant when he felt the dizzying effect of reality warp. Where there had been mere air molecules in his arms, was now a frightened young boy who was shivering, crying, and attracting the uneeded attention of every resident of the bar.  
  
"R-Remy, I'm really, really sorry! I-I tried to be good, but alla those kids at the playground were sneakin' up on me, an' an'...I'm really really sorry!"  
  
Remy gently tried to shush the boy.  
  
"S'okay, Franklin. S'okay, petite. Y'safe now. No one goin' t'be sneakin' up on y' here. I'm not made at y'. Y'just did what came nat'ral.--Rogue?"  
  
She delicately took the boy from his arms and settled him on her lap. She softly ran her fingers in small circles on the child's back as Remy gathered up their coats. The Cajun X-man paid for their drinks and dinner. He turned to his ward.  
  
"Kay now, Franklin. I'm gon' have t'ask a favor from y'. I need y' to warp all of us to de house. Dat is, less ya wanna find a way t'fit all t'ree of us onto one bike...."  
  
_______________________________  
  
Neal Sharra sighed in frustration. As rare as it was, he seemed to call at a time when Sage was genuinely distracted.  
  
"I heard you, Thunderbird, I'm merely attempting to monitor two other incoming calls. Please do continue."  
  
"The doctors finally let us in to see him, and Sage, Davis is still suffering from some serious injuries. He took a nasty blow to the head and has some serious strain put to both of his legs. I know that the home-team is the one with the shi'ar technology, but I still think he'd do better with us at the house. Heather and I will bring him in. He's opened up to her a bit, but things are still pretty strained between them. And as fair warning, I think they both still hate you."  
  
He could practically hear the woman taking mental notes.  
  
"Are the doctors so willing to release such a grievously injured patient?"  
  
"We decided to sneak him out in the middle of the night."  
  
"Subtle."  
  
"Considering me and Lifeguard are both flying him out, I don't see too much of a problem with it. We just need you to be ready with an intact house and a cozy room to sleep in. Think you can provide?"  
  
"We will manage, and thank you for calling, Thunderbird."  
  
"No problem."  
  
________________________________  
  
Jean Grey-Summers impatiently drummed her fingertips on the wooden coffee table. What had once been a room used to plot strategies of defense and super-hero activities was now a cozy faculty lounge. Currently, it was a safe haven for the frustrated woman code-named Phoenix.  
  
She really and truly didn't need this aggravation. Between Scott, Emma, the Professor, Cerebra, and every single mutant student under her watch, she had plenty to worry about without concerning herself over the Fantastic Four's Fanklin Richards.  
  
Why did Gambit always insist on making things so complicated? If the kid's parents are dead, let him stay with the Avengers; if he's a mutant, then send him on over to the Institute. But don't, she thought, make him a mutant target in New Orleans!  
  
She double-checked the phone line. Storm, or whoever it was on the other end of the line, was either incredibly busy or just plain ignoring her. Despite the lives she knew all the X-men led, she was pretty sure it was the ignoring option. Why wouldn't someone just pick up?  
  
It was at times like this that Jean yearned for the old days. Before the transformation to a real school, before second mutations, before Cassandra, before the three-way break up, before Destiny's diaries, and before Scott's absorption with Apocalypse.  
  
They had been freedom-fighters, defenders of hope, and a family. Now they were either an army or school faculty. The red-headed woman pulled on her hair with impatience as she waited for the phone to be answered and wondered when her relationships with her friends had first become so stiff and formal.  
  
________________________________  
  
After Neal hung up, Sage opened line 2.  
  
"Bishop?"  
  
"Sage! I think I'm in serious trouble here."  
  
"Really? Based on the recent news reports of a 'crazed mutant child' rampaging the streets, I honestly couldn't tell."  
  
"I don't know where you got this new sarcastic streak, but I could use a little direction. Especially with what I'm going to tell Gambit."  
  
"There's no stopping the inevitable."   
  
"The only thing I can think of that could possibly make this worse would be if Jean were to call right now."  
  
"Actually, she's on line 3."  
  
"You're stalling her?"  
  
"For as long as I can."  
  
"What happened to 'there's not stopping the inevitable?'?"  
  
"There may be no stopping it, but I didn't say a word about delaying it. But as it is, at least half of your worries are solved. Franklin is with Gambit. The visuals from my communicator glasses inform me that they're already headed home."  
  
"Wonderful. I'm already considering turning this bike around."  
  
"I wouldn't advise it. Gambit will probably be furious with you as it is, no need to increase that by avoiding him."  
  
Bishop sighed and shook his head.  
  
"You're right, of course. I just hope that Remy doesn't plan to kill me in front of Franklin.  
  
_____________________________  
  
He didn't plant to kill him in front of Franklin. Remy LeBeau, frowning in his thoughts, planned to escort his time-displaced teammate to another room before venting his fury on him. Distracted from these thoughts, he winced at his uncomfortable position.  
  
They had fitted all three of themselves onto his Harly Davidson. The Park Incident had scared Franklin so much that he was far to uncomfortable with his powers to warp them to the house, and both Remy and Rogue loved the boy too much already to push him to do so.  
  
Though the movement of the motorcycle caused too much noise to hear it, Remy muttered French complaints to himself. His mind could not help drifting to the small velvet box he had returned to his trench coat pocket.  
  
He had tossed in his bed day and night over that ring. He had thought about it long and hard before the quest for Destiny's diaries had even begun. The night that he and Rogue had said their goodbyes as she prepared for the mission had been enough to convince him.  
  
A day after she had left with Storm, Psylocke, Beast, and the rest of them, he had snatched the next flight to New Orleans to visit his guild one last time. After greeting his family, he planned to go to Tante Mattie and ask for the ring that had once belonged to the wife of his father Jean-luc. Afterwards, he had planned to leave the United Guild on its own, under Belladonna's care. He had not expected to receive the news that Vargas was gathering the stones of the Madripoor Set and that he would be expected to retrieve them.  
  
Between getting framed for murder, busting a crime ring, being captured by inter-dimentional conquerers, and getting stabbed in the gut and almost dying, Remy could never seem to find a good time to bring the ring into play.  
  
But now he had no excuse but his own fear. He had planned to ask her on their road trip after losing their powers, but the so-called 'mutant media' that had constantly followed them around had ruined the mood. Now, they were back in their New Orleans home with no missions in sight. The only thing to stop him was the fear that Rogue would say no.  
  
He wasn't blind. He knew she loved him. But she had spent so many years of her life as a completely untouchable person. What if she wasn't ready? Their relationship and grown and matured so much, that to have it shattered by her rejection now would surely scar him permanently.  
  
There were other fears as well. He had already failed in a marriage once, what if he did so again? He had loved Belle, even if it was mostly out of family obligation. And he had watched the guilds, fighting, and overall separation destroy what they had. He was a little afraid of his ex-wife now. Not for who she had been, but for the cold woman she had become. He trusted her to care for the Guild in his absence, but he would never feel anything, other than gratitude, for her again.  
  
Though somehow, Remy knew that if he could just ask, and Rogue could just say yes, all these fears would pass away. He would have to concern himself with nothing else, simply by having her. Now if only he could find the hope and courage to see his question through.  
  
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SHAMELESS ACT OF SELF-PROMOTION: I wish to mention to my readers that I have several other X-men fics to be enjoyed as well as a Matrix fic. I also have a web site that loves to get signatures on its guestbook which you can visit by clicking on my penname. And if you have read this chapter and like this story, but do not plan to do any of the above, you could at least be humane and review this story instead. So REVIEW!!! 


	8. Ultra Vires

Author's Notes: Here we are, boys and girls! Chapter 8!  
  
Fleurdelys-- I have continued and I agree. Bishop quaking in his boots does make for an entertaining sight.  
  
crazytook-- I'm glad you like the characterization, because I'm still tying to get used to the action. Thanks for the kudos!  
  
T.-- Nice to know I'm appreciated. ^-^  
  
Lucky439-- Well, looks like ya got lucky and the wait wasn't all that long.  
  
Wishful Thinking-- Yes, I think I do a pretty good job with angsting unloved characters when I set my neurotic mind to it. And speaking of Neurotic, the Temptress's underworld and mine are semi-affiliated. So ya don't have to worry about back-stabbing anybody. Consider yourself on the hit list!  
  
Paige Guthrie-- Thank you for the compliments, I have done as you have requested. ^.~  
  
Also note that the update list is ready for more takers.  
  
Disclaimer: Still thy beating heart and know that they are neither thine, nor mine.  
  
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CHAPTER 8: ULTRA VIRES  
  
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The in-between moments from when Sage hung up the phone to when Gambit's Harly drove up to the front were absolute torcher for the mutant known as Lucas Bishop. He was stuck in that time wondering to himself which would be worse: the things his Cajun teammate would do to him, or the things he imagined the man would do to him.  
  
When Rogue, Franklin, and Remy pulled up, Remy took Franklin's hand. The three of them walked into the house as Remy headed directly for Bishop. Bishop observed that his fellow mutant was showing a remarkable amount of restraint. It was then that LeBeau asked him to come away from the hall so they could 'talk'.  
  
Both men entered the secluded room. About an hour later, after the shouting and screaming were over, both came out. Gambit looked slightly calmer while Bishop looked as though he had been run over by a truck. A very big truck. Remy then scooped Franklin up into his arms and carried him to the living room. There, they and Rogue debated which movie to watch as they settled down for the night.  
  
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Sage watched on with concern. She had not yet told Remy of the call from Jean. She had eventually managed to lose comunication with the woman, but only because the red-head had already been enormously pre-occupied. Jean Grey-Summers would call again about Franklin. And she would call again soon.  
  
Sage frowned. She was not very effecient at feeling emotions, but it was her duty to analize them. And Jean's emotions were driving her to a cross-roads. The woman's life was busy to the point of being hectic. She was a teacher, an X-man, a recruiter, and a spurned wife all in one. A point was coming where she would tell herself that she needed a break. What better excuse than to recruit a powerful mutant child living in New Orleans?  
  
If Jean came to this conclusion, as she very well could, neither X-men team would likely mind it. The problem would come when it would be time for her to leave. She would be a woman on a mission and would insist on taking Franklin --and possibly a good chunk of the team--along with her. And neither Sage nor the other X-men were willing to let that happen.  
  
But Sage had more than Jean to worry about. She had to know who else was after Franklin. And how her teammates would deal with their three former members on their way back home.  
  
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"Neal, I am so bloody tired!"  
  
Lifeguard and Thunderbird waited outside the Mary Prey Hospital, just below the window of Room 231. The room that held Lifeguard's brother, Davis Cammeron.  
  
"Try to hold out a little more, Heather. We'll wait till they switch security guards, and then pull him out of the room."  
  
"Which of us is goin' to carry 'im?"  
  
"I could, unless you want to."  
  
"No...I..I think he'd prob'ly put up a fight with me. Better you take 'im. You did tell Sage that we're comin', right?"  
  
"Yeeesss......"  
  
"Whatta you mean, 'yeeesss'?"  
  
"I didn't exactly mention that Davis didn't know we planned on kidnapping him."  
  
"What? She was just s'possed to assume that he'd *plan* on leaving his comfy little hospital bed and stop avoiding us?"  
  
"At least you got to talk to him once."  
  
"I was there for half an hour an' we never got past 'H'llo, Davey' an' 'Hi, Heather'."  
  
"It's still something."  
  
"But it ain't bloody much, Neal."  
  
Lifeguard sighed.  
  
"Ok, Lifeguard! Watch the window! The nurse just turned the light out."  
  
"We wait a few minutes more?"  
  
"Just a few."  
  
"He'll be angry with us for pulling him out you know."  
  
"He's suffered for being a mutant, so maybe now he'll understand how hard it is for the rest of us. Something like this can really change a guy's perspective."  
  
"Can it make him stop seeing me the way I look now, and just make him remember the way I was?"  
  
"Please don't say that, Heather. You are so beautiful, and it hurts to watch you put yourself down like this."  
  
"That whole speach has been used many times, and it's as much a can of rancid worms now as it was then."  
  
Thunderbird sighed.  
  
"Ok, we can move in now."  
  
"We break through the window, you distract the watchers, I grab Davey?"  
  
"That's the plan."  
  
"Alright. Count of Three?"  
  
"One...Two...Three...GO!!!"  
  
CRASH!!  
  
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Ororo felt gentle tears sting her eyes. The hero on the movie screen was proclaiming his love to the lady who had won his heart over the span of the film. The weather witch critisized herself for crying over such a thing as a video, but it only served to bring on more emotion.  
  
She attempted to side-step her actions by looking away towards her friends. Franklin had scooted himself up close to the TV to get a better view, but was now covering his face with a pillow waiting for the 'mushy part' to end.  
  
Sage was diligent as always, ingnoring the movie and the people watching it as she typed away at her lap top. Digging and analyzing, analyzing and digging.  
  
She felt the sting of eye-water once again as her gaze turned to her padnat. Remy reclined lazily in Rogue's arms, paying more attention to her trusting gaze than to the movie he had chosen.  
  
Ororo frowned as she realized how much she envied her friends. Was she forever destined to be alone? There had been a time long ago when she had hoped to spend the rest of her life with her teammate Forge, but that time was long gone.  
  
She thought back to her last almost-relationships. With Davis Cammeron, she had genuinly had fun. She could even make herself forget that she was supposed to be undercover as a tourist. The dancing, laughs, waves, and warm boyish smiles had allowed her to forget.  
  
But all to soon it had been back to business, and Khan had stepped into the picture. She found something captivating about those strong dictator types. She had very nearly entertained an evening with Victor Von Doom himself at one time.† But as always, his stubborness had to be his downfall.  
  
She would've been willing to be Khan's queen, his wife, but only if it would save her friends and planet. Once she realized that he would take no bargain or compromise, she threw all thoughts of romance out the window of her mind and saught to fight him to a stand-still.  
  
She shoved the thoughts from her mind as she moved to get up. The doorbell was ringing and she needed to do *something* before her mind-ramblings drove her crazy. She then began to wonder who in the world would ring at their door. She hadn't ordered any packages of late, and she was fairly certain that her friends hadn't...she frowned. For all she knew, Logan could've ordered more physical therapy equipment. The slavedriver. She twisted the knob, and opened the doorway...and gasped.  
  
A face that had once seemed so young and charming, that she had associated with so much joy, was now tired, injured, and guilt-ridden. He was supported by his two mutant companions who were equally tired and out of breath. His leg was in a brace and a blood-tainted bandage was tightly wrapped around his forehead. Storm stood back and forced herself to exhale.  
  
"Slipstream?"  
  
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†I read about it in some big volume of Essential X-men at the bookstore. I thought it was a fun little fact to remember, and saved it up in my head only to have it mentioned in this story.  
  
Ultra Vieres: Latin. Means "Beyond the Powers" Overstepping authority, which is what the X-treme X-men seen to have a tendency to do.  
  
Author's Notes: I'm sorry there wasn't much of Rogue, Remy, and Franklin this chapter, but I wanted to do a little more focusing on the other members of the team. I didn't make it as long, because I wanted to post a chapter on time for once. I don't know that I'll be able to be as punctual with the next update, but I can most certainly try. Till then, "Adieu!" & "Review!". 


	9. For SelfPity's Sake

Review Responses: 

Fleurdelys--I'm sorry about the (lack of a) fight between Remy and Bishop, but I wasn't sure of how to go about it and I wanted to get on with the story. As for focussing on other team members, I do so this chapter! ^-^ 

Wishful Thinking--Yes, I did indeed spell Harley wrong. But, I have an excuse! I have a friend by that name and he spells it Harly. So now ya know. 

crazytook--I'm sorry to hear that the ninjas stole your imagination. I'd let you have mine, but I drove myself out of my mind a long time ago, and I'm not certain of where it is. 

T.--More again! 

Jean1--I originally intended the story to focus on Remy and Franklin, but the rest of the characters have done some growing on me since that time. What I enjoy is character development, so expect a pile of it. 

Lucky439--I'm afraid this is far from soon, but I did provide. 

Disclaimer: The X-men? Yes, I own the X-men. It's on that VHS tape on the shelf over---Oh! You meant the *intelectual property*? Nope. Why? Are you offering it? 

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CHAPTER 9: FOR SELF-PITY'S SAKE 

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Davis Cammeron flinched. Slipstream? He might have figured. No 'Davey' or even 'Davis'. No regular or pet name of affection or carring concern. Just worry over a former teammate. A treachurous teammate. A Judas Iscariot that Ororo Munroe was probably just dying to kick back out into the street. He didn't blame her. He'd probably do the same to himself. So it surprised him to find her supporting him, taking him from Neal and Heather's arms. 

She stumbled. He hadn't even realized how injured she was. He cursed himself all over again. Of course he didn't know. How could he notice how hurt any of the X-men were when he'd been in such a hurry to escape from Madripoor? And he'd been in such a hurry because of what? Childish fear. Fear of a sister who loved him. And fear of her changed physical apperance. 

Now here he was again, being supported by Storm, a woman in need of support herself. That was all he had ever been to the X-men, he mused. A burden getting in the way. He struggled to collect his thoughts, only to realize that he didnt' want to be where he was. He was barely even aware of how he had gotten to be where he was. 

He remembered a feeling of groggy sleep, the sound of shattered glass, the sensation of flying, and having a door opened to reveal a shocked-looking weather witch. Oh yes, he remembered one other thing: the pain. The pain, he realized, that he was still feeling. It made him weak and tired. He couldn't even try to focus anymore, the pain was so bad. He became dead weight against Ororo's fragile self, unbalancing her. They both fell to the floor in a heap. 

________________________________________ 

When Logan had decided to take a break from the hectic life at the mansion, he thought that spending a little 'quite time' in New Orleans helping with Ororo's therapy would do him good. Since the arrival of Franklin Richards and his 'Robo-ben', he had drastically changed his mind. Since then, he had found himself going out more often. In this case, to bars. 

He stalked in and set his butt at the bar stool. He ordered a drink. Strong. The Wolverine didn't get drunk easily, but he might as well try since he didn't have anything better to do. He glanced up at the TV. At first, he didn't pay attention to what the anouncer was saying. He was acting on instict and merely watching the movement on the screen. Soon enough, though, his ears picked up on what the man was actually saying. He then realized it was worth his concern. 

_"--Latveria. Trackers say that Dr. Doom is a man that obviously doesn't want to be found. The country's political status is in an absolute upheaval. Several petty dictators have already attempted to take over the country. We go now to Stan now for the opinion of the current leader of the Avengers...Captain America!"_

The setting on the screen switched to reveal a smug-looking reporter and a passively contenanced Steve Rogers. 

_"And I'm Stan The Man here, reporting live at the Avengers headquarters for their insight on Dr. Doom's intentions. So, Cap, ol' chap _ (he chuckled to himself),_ what do you think ol' Vicky's up to?"_

Captain America winced in annoyance. 

_"Von Doom, no doubt, has gone into hiding to plan something in depth. Usually, we can depend on the Fantastic Four to discern his intentions, but sadly they are no longer with us."_

_"According to our sources, Cap, Mr. and Mrs. Fantastic had a young son. What's become of the boy? Some of our sympathetic viewers are curious."_

_"It is not my place to reveal Franklin Richard's whearabouts at this time..."_

He turned to the Scarlet Witch for confirmation. 

_"Suffice to say that he is being well-cared for."_

The reporter irritatedly wrinkled his nose. 

_"Ah. I...see."_

Logan turned away from the set. The reporter had returned to asking mere gossip inquiries. The old Canadian pulled out his wallet. Paying for his drinks, he wondered to himself, _ What_ is _Doom up to?_

_______________________________________

_This is....certainly awkward._ Ororo Munroe pushed against Davis' unconsious body in a futile effort to rise. She couldn't have been less shocked if she had answered the door to Magneto. It seemed as though merely the thought of the australian surfer had brought him to her. She felt his weight pulled from her. 

Rogue and Remy had heard the commotion and were now easing Davis onto the couch. Sage had also risen from her seat, and helped Ororo to stand up. She turned to Franklin. He was looking up in wonder at Lifeguard. Apparently, he had never seen a big, metalic bird-lady before. 

Ororo leaned against the wall for support, and made her way to the couch. She glanced over Slipstream's injuries. They were brutal, but in the process of healing. She wrinkled her brow. But just how healed was he on the inside? 

________________________________________ 

Heather Cammeron entered the living room. Davey had the couch, but there was a very plush-looking bean bag still available. She plopped down on it. She had just begun to settle down when she squirmed, realizing she was being poked and prodded. 

"What in bloody....What are you doing?" 

Puppy dog blue eyes looked out at her from under golden bangs. 

"Lookin' for the 'on' switch." 

She stared at the child, not comprehending. 

"The 'on' switch?" 

"Yeah. Robo-ben has one, I'm lookin' for yours." 

She groaned in frustration. 

"I'm not a robot, kid." 

"You're not?" 

"Nope." 

"Oh." 

Lifeguard looked over at him once more and chuckled. She was having a bad day, but she couldn't take it out on the boy. He was simply too precious. She took his small hand within her clawed one. 

"It's organic metal." She explained. 

"See? It covers up the rest of me. Underneath, I'm just as flesh an' blood as you are." 

"I get it!" Franklin smiled. He began tracing her facial markings with his fingers. 

"The tatoos are pretty. Can I get one?" 

She looked over at a preoccupied Remy LeBeau. 

"When you're older, kid." She admonished. 

"When you're older." 

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Logan walked through to door to discover chaos. With the scurrying for medical supplies, Sage's analyzing, Franklin's unceasing questions, and a general reunion of old friends, things were getting far to loud for the likes of his sensitive ears. He made his way over to Sage. 

"We got a problem." 

"Really? I hadn't noticed it. Just as I hadn't noticed all the others." 

Logan snorted. He had absolutely no idea where she had begun developing this new sarcastic streak, but it was getting old quickly. 

"There's trouble brewin' over in--" 

"Latveria? Thank you for telling me, Logan; I found out a week in advance while browsing the records of the White House. Now if you will excuse me, I need to tend to Davis..." 

Heather screamed. 

"No! Don't even think of going near him, you bloody catalyst! Or haven't you done enough?" 

"Lifeguard, if I do not analyze his injuries--" 

"He'll be just fine! Not to mention a good lot better than the last time you tampered with his genes...or mine for that matter!" 

Sage dropped the argument. To continue, would only upset both Cammerons even more. 

Logan snorted at their petty bickering. It was too much drama for him. He sniffed the air and recognized Franklin's distinct scent amoung the scurrying mutants. He figured that where the kid was, the dog would follow. He headed on to bed. As late as he liked to stay up--healing factor or no--he would not endure razor-blade puppy teeth in his leg again. 

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After Davis and been put back to sleep, and nearly everyone else had retired to bed, Lucas Bishop walked out into the garden. He knew that Remy sometimes came to the place to brood, and he figured that he might find the place equally appropriate. 

He looked up at the stars. As the days flew by, Lucas became more and more certain that the future that he knew would never come to pass. Onslaught had been the traitor, and he had been defeated. And LeBeau, as it turned out, was brave and carring man that he was ashamed to have doubted. And was doubly ashamed to have failed. 

BRIIIINNNGG! 

He straightened, looking over his shoulder warily. The X-men had no reason to call him at this time and there was only one other person he had given the number to... 

"Hello, Teri." 

"Crikey! Don't do that to a gel, Lucas! Can't yeh just say 'Hello, who is this?' like normal folk?" 

He smirked. Teri Baltimore. His guilty little secret. When the X-men left Sydney, Ororo had instructed them to errase all traces that they had ever been on the continent. Bishop had not complied: He had chosen to keep contact with his investigation partner. 

Together, they had managed to bring down an entire crime ring. That was something a cop didn't take lightly. He had invited her to dinner, as a partner and as a friend, where they had proceeded to share their stories of mysteries, hard-to-nail criminals, and smashing sucesses. Bishop, of course, had to be careful to omit any references to mutants or alternate futures, but he had always been acurate with the basics of his tales. 

As for Teri, she had been delightful. Her casual manner of dress and punk-dyed blue hair had often caused various bosses and crooks to underestimate her. It made victory all the sweeter to see their faces as she hauled her latest catch off to jail. She had even immited the looks she had recieved as she regalled him with the tales of her captures. She had made him actually laugh a time or two. 

"Got any time to chat?" 

"A little. Have you found a new case to pursue yet?" 

"Well, there seemed to be a re-surgence of nasty buggers over in China Town, but it turned out to be some crazy mutant thing and I thought it best to leave it to Inspector Gavin." 

Mutant. Bishop winced. He still hadn't told her about the whole X-men thing...or even the mutant thing for that matter. She didn't seem to have a known opinion of mutants one way or the other, at least, she had never expressed any opinion to *him*. He wasn't ready to touch on it yet. Not just yet. 

"What about you, mate? Ready to open up a new case file yet?" 

"I'm...in bit of a twilight right now. Nothing *is* happening, but anything *could* happen at any moment." 

"Funny. Ya didnt' say much different las--awww, Crackers!" 

"What's the matter?" 

"Crackers. The new dog. My roomate brought him home the other day. She's not here, and he needs to go out *now*." 

"Tell me about it. One of the men I'm boarding with brought home a dog, and a boy, and guests. I haven't had a moment's peace since." 

"I feel your pain, Lucas. I'll catch ya later!" 

"Goodbye." 

CLICK. 

Bishop sighed. As much as it went against his grain, he seemed to be keeping secrets from everyone nowadays. Teri didnt' know about the X-men, and the X-men didn't know about Teri. And now Gambit didn't trust him. The future-born mutant headed off to bed. He had a lot of things on his mind, and he was tired of thinking of them. Hopefully, things would look brighter in the morning. 

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Author's Note: No cliff-hanger this time, but I'm already started on the next chapter, so it shouldn't take as long. My sincerest appologies for the long update, but my schedule has been packed with my summer tutoring program. I get finished with something, and something else pops up in it's place. As for Rogue and Remy, I'm also sorry that they got no spotlight this chapter. No fear, though. Rogue will be the very first person I touch upon next chapter. As for Teri, she's another minor character Claremont made for the Chinese Triad/Mafia frame-up story arc in extreme. I remembered that Bishop seemed to like her, and decided to see where their relationship could go. As for Doom, more of him later. Until then, PLEASE REVIEW!! 


	10. Good Morning, Xmen

Review Responses: T.--Glad to know that someone's lovin' it and botherin' ta reivew....*Gives angry glare at all readers who did not*

Disclaimer: It's not fair; it's really not fair. I can draw them, I can write them and I love them. It is really, really, NOT FAIR!!! 

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CHAPTER 10: GOOD MORNING, X-MEN 

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Rogue awoke some several hours after the crack of dawn. The sunlight streamed through tiny cracks in the window shade while the smell of bacon, eggs, toast, and Vegetarian Delight wafted up from the kitchen. She sniffed carefully, noting the lack of spice in the scent of the food. It wasn't the Cajun's cooking, so he probably wasn't up yet. Fine by her. 

Slipping a robe over her shoulders, she trudged down the hallway, not yet having met her morning requirement of caffine. She crossed the living room, past Davis who was still sleeping on the couch. They had decided not to move him, so as not to upset his injuries further. Until the extra medical equipment Logan had ordered came in, they didn't want to take any chances with their beaten former member. 

Growing accustomed to the daylight, she peaked out the window. A glorious day in the Garden District. The sunlight would do wonders for the plants in the back garden with the passing of the former rains. 

"I'm sorry." 

"Ah beg ya pardon?" 

It had been Davis. He seemed awake, but the roling of his head seemed to indicate that he wasn't fully alert. 

"Promised I wouldn't leave. Bloody broke it. Sorry." 

"Actually, if Ah recall rightly, ya promised me ya wouldn't _die_, Davey."† 

"Same thing." he mumbled. 

"Nope. Ya got scared an' ran, but ya lived ta fight another day. When Ah saw how badly ya back got scared up, Ah was concerned that ya wouldn't make it." 

"Why aren't ya mad at me? Y'...s'posed to be mad at me." he seemed to grow more dazed and confused." 

"Why? Do ya want me ta be?" 

His head seemed to begin to clear. 

"It'd make things a fat lot easier." 

Rogue sighed. It would make things easier, wouldn't it? Ways back, when she had deserted Remy in Antarctica, he had been quite angry with her. They fought and she had a right to defend herself from his animosity. But once the people you hurt forgave you, how obvious it became that you couldn't forgive yourself! Without anger to direct towards the X-men, how could Davis avoid how angry he was with himself? 

"Ah don't _need _ta be mad at ya, Davey; Ah figure ya'll are doin' that just fine on your own." 

He averted his eyes, embarrased at having held gazes with her older soul. 

"How...How's Heather?" 

"Well, your 'welcome home' created quite a stir last night, so Ah couldn't check ta be sure, but Ah'd guess the usual. Hurt, sad, lonely, an' confused." There was not malice in her tone. 

"Guess I should talk to her, huh?" 

"If ya ready to." 

His stomache growled. 

"After breakfast?" He pointed to the kitchen. 

"Ah'll bring it to ya." And she resumed her original destination. 

______________________________________ 

Storm had given him his orders, and he was determined to follow them. He crept like a shadown down the hall, his target in sight. He stood before the room. He opened the door with great care, so it did not sqeak. There lay his objective. Several pounds of red-eyed Cajun just laying there in dream-filled sleep, drooling on its pillow, unaware of the potential danger. He attacked. 

"Seven o' clock, Remy! Ms. Storm says it's time ta get up!" 

Remy LeBeau awoke to the sensation of a young boy with blond hair and blue pygamas bouncing on his bed and his person with early-morning enthusiasm. He made a note to himself: As prudent as it was to follow thier leaders on the field, young Richards should be advised _not _to listen to weather witches when they tell them when to get up. Unfortunately for Remy, it was a bit late to correct that mistake. Franklin was getting heavy, which made it hard to ignore his pouncing, and even harder to get back to sleep. 

"Enough! Ok! Remy gettin' up! REMY GETTIN' UP! WILL Y'STOP A'READY!" 

This seemed to satisfy the child, and he promptly rushed out of the room. Remy fell back into bed. 

_________________________________________ 

It began with a sniff. A simple sniff of morning air. Innocently seeming. But it was immitated. Wolverine sniffed again. Something was in his room that was not supposed to be there. Sniff. Oil. Oil and metal. Logan slowly turned his head. 

There is was. Standing there all alert. The tail of steel was wagging, making swishing noises in the air. The chrome-colored tongue was hanging out, making the machine appear as a real puppy would. The deadly powerful mutant known as Wolverine of the X-men cringed. 

"Awww cripes...Not Again. Ok, nice puppy--good dog...can't belive I'm flamin' doin' this...niiice mut..." 

Rrrr--ark! 

"ARRRGGHHH!" And to think that the pin-pric holes in his leg had been healing so nicely up to that point... 

____________________________________________ 

The Indian X-man known as Neal Sharra took a big wiff of Vegetarian Delight. 

"Bishop, I can now honestly say that your cooking is the reason I get up so early in the morning." 

"Why thank you, Neal." 

Thunderbird paused. 

"What is it?" 

"I can't belive it: you didn't call me 'rookie'!" 

Bishop scratched his goatee in thought. 

"No...no I didn't, did I? Guess you're really not the main rookie anymore if I think about it. But don't let it go to your head. You don't know everything yet." 

"No, sir!" Neal gave him a mock solute. They were interupted by the house's southern belle. 

"Hey, fellas!" 

"Hello, Rogue." 

"Ready to take mah order, Lucas?" 

"As ready as ever." 

"Two piles o' eggs, four slices a' toast, and double the servin' of meat." 

"On a diet, are we?" Neal joked. 

"Very funny--make it on two plates, Bish--so happens,_rookie, _that half o' that food is for Davis." 

Sharra grew serious. 

"He's up already?" 

"A lil' groggy an' a lil' confused, but awake. But let's keep it down ta one visitor at a time, alright?" 

"Alright. I...supose it's for the best." 

The three X-men silently agreed. The food was ready shortly, and Rogue carried it out into the living room. 

____________________________________________ 

Remy snuggled against his pillow in a most desperate manner. But try as he might, he couldn't recall to his sleep-filled mind the wonderful little dream he'd been having about Rogue. The Cajun burried his face in the fabric. As much as he loved the boy, he was quite annoyed with Franklin right now. Bad enough to disturb his sleep, but time on a desserted beach with Rogue in a bikini? Even if it was only in his mind, it was still a dreadfully pleasant thing to interrupt. No, sir. He was _not _happy with the young Richards at the moment. As if on cue, the boy ran into the room and began resuming jumping on the bed. 

"I said I'd be gettin' up, didn' I?" 

"But Remy, that was forever ago! Ms. Storm says now!" 

Remy rolled over. Slowly, painstakingly, he stretched as the coverlets fell from his body. He took his time: putting an arm up, putting an arm down. Putting the other arm up, putting the other arm down. Lifting his head up... 

It began to dawn on Franklin that his guardian was going to take a long time with this. Becoming bored, he wandered around the room. A few pictures, dresser drawers, clothing. Boring. Then he spotted it: Remy's Trenchcoat. Curiousity sprang anew as the boy began digging through the pockets. 

An old un-opened pack of cigarrettes; gross. A lighter; cool. Lock picks; usefull. Cards; fun. Wallet; _lots _of fun. Blue velvet box with a ring inside; pretty.... 

"DON' TOUCH DAT!" 

Franklin dropped the box. 

Remy immediately stopped his stretching rituall to attend the ring, checking for any damages. Franklin grew nervous. 

"I...I'm really sorry, Remy! S'just...Mommy wore a ring like that once an' I thought..." 

"S'okay, Franklin. I'm not mad. Y'jus' scared Remy for a moment dere. But try not t'go rootin' t'rough m'coat wit'out permission, oui?" 

"Uhh...oui?" 

"Means 'yes', petite..." 

The child frowned. 

"...Franklin." 

"Dont' call me..." 

"I know, I know, kay? Jus' don't tell Rogue 'bout dis." 

"Why not?" 

"'Cause Remy not ready t'give it t'her yet." 

"Ya gonna ask Rogue ta marry you?" 

"Oui." 

"When?" 

"I don' know, chile'." 

"What kind of answer is that?" 

Remy LeBeau sighed to himself. Yes, indeed. What kind of answer was that? 

_________________________________________________ 

_________________________________________________ 

Author's Notes: And you're probably wondering 'What kind of ending is that?" Well, it'll be the final one if I don't get any reviews! Honestly, it's a big job, and you can't just leave it all to one person. (Thanks, T!) Unless, of course, you honestly don't want another chapter. If that is the case, I have nothing to compell you to review....except my good will, of course! ^-^ 

"† : It happened in the issue just before Rogue and Remy got stabbed by Vargas in X-treme. 


	11. Original Intentions

Sorry about the lack of updates. 

Review Responses: 

T.-- S'a funny thing. It has come to be about everyone, hasn't it? 

Jean1--Glad to see someone else appreciates Davey, Heather, and Neal. I'm having a fun time writing them, especially Slipstream. 

puppiescute-- As you will see this chapter, the reference of marriage between our two fave southerners just got more complicated. ^.~ 

Fleurdelys--I'm sorry if you're not very familiar with X-treme. I, myself, lost a lot of interest after Rogue and Remy temporarily left the team. As for Franklin, he _is_ a child and he's _not_ perfect. After all, without imperfection, how could we have drama? 

Lucky439-- I see that you picked up on the friendship I was arranging between Rogue and Davis. I figured that they'd care a little bit about each other after helping one another defeat an army of invaders in past issues of X-treme. I'll probably play with it some more later. 

xXrogue-demonXx--Wow...Two hours?! I feel so loved! 

Pookie Sanchez--Robo-Ben's not the only thing annoying Wolverine... 

Elle_Lugosi--Well, it took forever and a day, but here it is! 

Wishful Thinking-- Angsty? Moi? Surely I'm not as drastic as all that! ^.~ 

Sabby13--I don't know about soon, but I _did_ update. Gotta get some credit for that, non? 

Disclaimer: A lot of these guys belong to Chris Claremont. Considering that fact, I can deal with the concept that I don't own them. Why? Because Claremont **rocks! **

______________________________________ 

CHAPTER 11: ORIGINAL INTENTIONS 

______________________________________ 

They had swam together, they had danced together, they had fought together, and now they were complaining together. Ororo tended to stick to the term 'Slavedriver', while Davis most often used 'Yank Drill Sargent'. Put together, they were giving the Wolverine a headache. 

The earlier morning hours had given way to therapy sessions in the upper gym. Davis was doing chin-ups to strengthen his arms while Ororo carefully stretched her leg muscles. Storm was nearly ready to end the accursed sessions, but Slipstream's training had only begun. 

"...don't get it...unnngg....this was easy a month ago..." 

"Many simple things become difficult after an injury, Davis." 

He stared at her. 

"What is it?" 

"Yeh said my name. I think that's the first time yeh've called me by my name since I was dragged here." 

Ororo's cheeks took on a slightly crimson color. 

"I'm afraid I really don't know how to answer to that." 

The surfer blushed a little in turn. 

"Well,...you could keep callin' me by that for one." 

"Then I suppose I will...Davis." She smiled and he returned with a grin. 

Logan looked over his shoulder. Their conversation had caused both to lag behind in their excersizes. "Alright ya two, get back ta work!" 

They both shared a grimance. 

"Slavedriver." 

"Yank Drill Sargent." 

_____________________________________ 

"Atten-shun!" Remy watched Franklin as he imitated the brave commandos on the TV set. The Cajun smirked to himself. He had gotten the child into the habit of watching movies as opposed to actuall television. It prevented him from accessing anti-mutant propaganda, and it did wonders for his attention span. 

Ding Dong. 

Remy walked over to answer the door, looking over his shoulder. Franklin had been acting the part of a perfect angel all morning; not once letting on to the Cajun's secret hopes of a marriage proposal. The boy didn't understand his hesitations, but he revelled in the privialege of being let in on a 'grown-up secret'. _Chil'en _. Remy decided not to question good fortune reguarding their peculiar behavior. 

"Special Delivery t' Heather Cammeron from de Xavier Institute. Will y' sign dis form please?" 

Remy snapped to attention. The Xavier Institute? What would Lifeguard recieve from the old mansion? As if on cue, Heather and Neal trotted in to see the goings on. Heather's eyes widened at the package. 

"So soon? I just ordered the thing yesterday." 

The young delivery man's eyes widened in surprise. He had delivered many things to many people in his short job at the serice, but never to a gold-plated half-alien. 

"Y'gon' sign f' it, chere, or do y' want me t' do it?" 

"I'll take it, Remy." 

She scrawled her name on the form, frowning a bit as she steadied the pen in her large clawed hands. She handed the paper back to the delivery boy as she took the package from him, shutting the door in his face. 

Neal raised his eyebrows in curiosity. "What could you want from Professor Xavier? You've never even met him." 

She extended a claw to slice the duct tape from the packaging. "No, but I've met that big blue fella, Beast. I learned from him an' Nightcrawler about these little things." 

She picked up a small watch with a red button. Ignoring the men's curiosity, she strapped the item to her wrist. All at once, the image of her facial markings and gold-metallic skin faded away to reveal a smiling blond surfer girl. One that looked as human as anyone walking down the street. 

_____________________________________ 

Bishop was looking out at the street, still trying to get his head around it. Why, when she finally got her permission for vacation, did Teri decide to spend her two weeks leave with him in the USA? 

"Got nothin' better ta do, mate." had been her reply as she told him over the phone to expect her. 

Bishop nervously straighted his clothing. Today he would tell her. Today she would know that her old mafia ring-busting partner was a mutant. Now he just had to get up his nerve. 

She met him at the Cafe du Monde at 12:30 for lunch. When she arrived, she looked...well, Teri. Her punk-blue died hair, heavy boots, and denim jacket all helped to set Lucas at ease. 

She strutted up, giving him a knowing smirk, as though it had annoyed police chiefs for centuries. He pulled out a chair for her, and the smirk turned to a smile. Then, they sat down to eat...with Bishop hoping all the while that none of his friends would see him. 

_____________________________________ 

Scott Summers couldn't believe what he was seeing. His teammate, fellow teacher, and wife was packing her bags as though she had the full intention of leaving. 

"Jean?" 

She looked up in surprize, as a deer caught in headlights. Regaining her composure, she spoke. 

"Scott, I'm going to see about Franklin Richards in New Orleans. Could you please hold the fort while I'm gone?" 

"For how long?" 

She avoided his visor-covered gaze. 

"I really don't know." 

"Jean, wait." He touched her arm. 

Jean wanted to scream._Now _he was concerned? What about months ago, when she had been having an identity crisis? What about a little over one month ago, when she had been burdened with the drastic increase of the student body? What about a few weeks ago, when she had first started crying into her pillow at night after realizing that she'd wake up, and his side hadn't even been slept in. She shook off his hand and slammed the last suitcase shut. 

"Wait? Why should I wait? I've done nothing but wait since you first came back to us! I thought this whole thing was just a phase you'd been going through because of Apocalypse; but apparently, I was wrong. Why don't you go back to Emma? I'm sure she'll wait as long as you want." 

His brow furrowed, as his voice raised. "What's _that _supposed to mean?" 

Jean sighed. "It means I'm tired and want a vacation." 

With that, she telekinetically lifted her luggage and departed out the door. 

_____________________________________ 

"Well? Whatta you think?" 

"Heather....Why?" 

Remy looked nervously at the young couple. Neal was clearly upset about Heather's decision to wear an image inducer, while the female half-shiar didn't understand the problem. Heather frowned. 

"B'cause I'm sick of having to go outside afraid to even show my face--much less the rest of me! This little dingus will solve my problem. Re-charge it during the night, and presto! Normal-looking Heather Cammeron's back in action!" 

"But don't you see? You shouldn't _need _to hide what you are. You looked fine the way you were!" 

Lifeguard's now-normal features took on the apperance of a girl about to cry. "I thought you'd be happy for me...guess not." Remy figited. Awkward silences were bad enough on their own, but the Cajun seemed to the caught in the middle of a long-running lover's quarrel. He wanted to be tactfull and considerate--but even more--he wanted to get out. 

___________________________________ 

"He couldn't get out?" 

Teri sniffed. She hadn't begun crying yet, but was thouroughly upset. 

"Right. He (sniff) 'ad been scratchin' at the window. 'Parrently, my roomate had f'gotten to leave some of the window open, an' the sun got really, really bad 'till he just (sniff) suffocated." 

Bishop gently laid a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry." 

They had finished dinner with a small portion of wine before they had begun talking in earnest. Lucas had been preparing to drop the news of his mutation before it finally dawned on him that Teri was distracted and upset. Then he learned about Crackers. The Australian sun was blazing this time of year and the poor pup had been left in the air-tight car for too long. He then decided that this was not the time to tell her about his mutant life. 

"Sorry to burden yeh with this, mate. It...it's jus' that I'd really started to like that lil' furball despite all the trouble he'd caused me." 

He looked at her with sad eyes as he thought of Franklin. 

"I know what you mean, Teri." he mumbled. "I know what you mean." 

__________________________________ 

"Ah don't have a _clue _as ta what you mean!" 

"It's a rhyme Mommy taught me. A lady needs something blue to wear when she...oops." 

"Gets married, sugah?" 

Franklin's cheeks began to turn red. He thought he'd done a very good job of keeping Remy's secret. But apparently, when he had noticed the lack of blue clothing in Rogue's closet, he couldn't keep his mouth shut. 

"It's alright, hun. Ah already guessed as much." 

"Ya...ya did?" 

"Yup, an' Ah think it's right sweet o' ya, but please don't rush us grown-ups." 

Rogue nearly laughed at Franklin's adorable wrinkled brow. She thought it was a precious thing that the boy wanted to play match-maker with Remy and her. But, she reminded herself, now really wasn't the time. They actually had quite a bit to worry about concerning the boy. Mainly, how to give him a proper education when their first instict was to spoil him rotten. She had tried to bring the topic up with Remy when he had taken her out to dinner, but they had been interrupted by Remy's distractions and Franklin's sudden arrival. There _had _to be something better for the boy to do than watch movies and trying to hitch Remy and her. If only she could find the right program. 

It hadn't taken Rogue too long to realize that there was no way Franklin could go to a public school. The reaction of the young children at the Bishop/Playground incident was enough to make that clear. And the only private school for children of Franklin's caliber was the Xavier Institute all the way up in New York. Since that too was out of the question, Rogue had to find a way to home-school the boy. She had found a possible solution in the New Orleans newspaper: a used book sale. 

"Franklin, sugah, why don't ya'll stop bumblin' through mah closet an' help me pick out some text books at this sale Ah'm goin' to?" 

"Text books?" 

"Gotta start schoolin' ya sometime, kid. Ah'd rather that ya learn the skills it takes to get a job rather that the ones required to save the world. Less chance o' damage." 

"Okay." 

Franklin smiled. He remembered the fun times he'd had while learning things in his father's study. Maybe it could be like that with Rogue. He took her hand as she led him out the door, wondering how she'd known about Remy's hopes of proposing... 

________________________________ 

The emotionless gaze of the the hidden spy cammera watched woman and child as they departed from the Garden District house. A man sat at the control consul taking in the scene. The lips half-hidden behind a mask of metal began to twist upwards. His name was Victor Von Doom, and he had the smile of a madman. _________________________________ 

_________________________________ 

Author's Notes: Does _that _ classify as a cliff-hanger? My muse seems to think so. Again, I appologize for the lack of updates, I've been having these bouts of writers' block lately coupled with limited access to my computer. However, reviews _do _ help make 'em come faster. So start pressing that button! Till next time! ^-^ Adieu! 


	12. Returns & Exchanges

Review Responses: 

Darkthedestroyer-- Thank you for suggesting Doom! ^-^ 

Jean1--Everyone loves Franklin...even someone as stiff as Bishop. 

xxFleurdelySxx --Remy, Rogue, and Franklin will recieve their destinies at the end of this tale. Until then, If my muse is tired, I must get it re-wired. 

Sue Penkivech --I'm sorry about chapter 6, but if you go to my web site (see my bio) I have all my stories posted there too. In the meantime, enjoy the story and thanks for reading! 

Tia, T., lil' odd me--Thanks you guys! I love complements, and it's a beautiful thing to have fellow Rogue/Remy fans! 

Pookie Sanchez --Sorry, the muse does not work well under stress. It prefers chocolate. 

Wishful Thinking2 --Yeesh. I almost forgot about Sage, didn't I? Oh well, you reminded me, so I gave her a part this very chapter! 

Stevie and Alice Storm -- I can see the Sage/Bishop possibilities, but (sorry to say) I won't be dealing with them in this particular story. 

Disclaimer: I would settle for just a piece of Marvel's lovely intelectual property, but they won't even grant me the most obscure of supporting characters. Go figure publications. 

______________________________________ 

CHAPTER 12: RETURNS & EXCHANGES 

_____________________________________ 

As emotionless as she often was, there were times when Sage genuinely disliked her powers. The perfect memory was a blessing, but her analytical mind made things too predictable. She would have liked a surprize for once. Jean arrived within a day of her last phone call exactly as expected. 

The data-oriented mutant was even able to open the door before Mrs. Grey-Summers had even knocked. At first, the redhead was startled and blinked. Then, remembering who she was watching, she sighed and treaded into the hallway. 

"Is Franklin here?" 

"No. He went shopping with Rogue. I suspect that they will not be back until later this evening." 

Jean didn't seem terribly dissapointed. 

"That's alright, I suppose. I wanted to stay a while anyway. But when I leave....!" 

"Let us worry about that later. For now, welcome." 

"Thank you." 

________________________________________ 

Rogue smiled at the overloaded shopping cart. At first, Franklin hadn't seemed to care one way or the other what they did at the sale. But then, he started glancing at the books Rogue had chosen, and began making suggestions of his own. He would open a table of contents on each tome she selected, and look through the chapters to see if it was a quality text or not. He handled himself like a professional. 

Rogue looked over the selection. Pre-algebra, science overviews, history books, geography maps, miscelanious computer handbooks, and abridged versions of classic novels. Coupled with a few impulse-buys and gifts for friends, it was quite a haul. The boy and the lady smiled at each other. Packing the items in bags, they prepared to head home. 

________________________________________ 

Remy groaned into his pillow. As far as he was concerned, there really wasn't any privacy in the house anymore. He had grown tired of listening to Heather and Neal's arguments over the image inducer. In order to escape their disruptive debating, he had gone upstairs into the make-shift gymn area. He escaped intruding on their quarrel, only to intrude on Ororo and Davis making 'twiterpated' glances at each other. He shook his head; Franklin had been making him watch 'Bambi' too many times. 

Remy sighed. He really didn't know Slipstream very well. The majority of the Australian's bonding time with the X-men had taken place when Remy was held as prisoner and gate-way for a group of inter-dimentional invaders. All the same, he was glad that Ororo was finally opening up to someone again. Until Davey, it had seemed that Forge had destroyed Stormy's ability to love that way again. It was good to see her flirting and smiling once more. He'd just have to keep an eye on this Cammeron boy to make sure he did right by her. 

And now there was Jean. Bad enough having to deal with a hoard of loud mutants, but a telepath among them? It was enough to make him squirm. He had heard Bishop muttering about 'telepaths' and 'too good at dislodging secrets' and felt inclined to agree with him. Though why Bishop worried about secrets of all people was still a mystery to Remy. 

He could hear the sound of packing a few rooms away. Logan didn't carry much, but he had some extra clothing to stuff in his bag. The Cajun sighed. Even Wolverine had seen enough. Something must have malfuntioned in that robotic brain belonging to Franklin's dog. The metalic mut had self-programmed its puppy hide to tail the Canadian wherever he went and it was driving Logan crazy. The fact that Jean would now being staying in the house only served to hit him lower as a reminder of things he'd lost long ago. So the clawed mutant was leaving. He was wanted elsewhere too for that matter. Warren's team and Scott had both requested his presense several times for different missions. By bailing out of New Orleans, Logan would finally be able to comply. Remy sighed. He'd miss having the knuclehead around, but he knew Wolverine couldnt' stay. 

Gambit winced. His furtive ears could hear through the walls, disturbed by Jean's unpacking, Lifeguard and Thunderbird's arguing, and the distant sound of Logan's motercycle. Finally, he retreated to Sage's room for peace and quiet. 

Sage had added extra insulation into her private quarters to allow her to work undisturbed. Remy--being a thief--knew that he could join her without disrupting her research. He entered her room to see her typing away on a letter to a contact, asking for information. He tried to read the letter. 

"I would appreciate it if you were to stop spying over my shoulder, Remy." 

"Not much of a spy compared t' you, chere. Y'had us fooled for years on end, neh?" 

The quiet woman frowned. 

"I'd rather we did not discuss my years within Shaw's Inner Circle. The memories are not pleasant, and that time is long gone." 

Remy bowed his head. "Sorry. But on anot'er note, what ya writin'?" 

"An old ally of Shaw's. He is unaware of my departure from my former life, and will still be willing to provide data." 

"Why can't you jus' hack int' de system dat contains de info ya want?" 

"Not all knowledge is uploaded onto a computer, Remy. There are some things that can only be told through a tightly reigned word-of-mouth. In this case, email." 

Gambit nodded. "Make sense." 

There was silence between them for some time. Even though he knew Sage's walls were well-insulated, he somehow sensed the entire house grow quieter. Jean must have settled in by now. And Neal and Heather seemed to have stopped fighting for the moment. His mood lightened accordingly. 

He decided to go see Jean. She had seemed rather depressed when she arrived, as though she could use some cheering up. He wasn't opposed to her, really. So long as she didn't try to bother Franklin, he recalled her company as being rather pleasant. And besides, if she was moping, it was his duty as the resident charming Cajun to lighten her mood. It was a beautiful day, and far to precious to waste. 

__________________________________ 

Heather knew the day for what it was and also knew it shouldnt' be wasted. The hot sun reminded her of the good ol' days in Surfer's Paradise, where she and Davey had led a simpler life. A life where her mutation actually made things easier, where her and Davis's main concern was making ends meat and putting propper food on the table. 

The memories left a small pang in her chest, telling her to focus on the present, and that those old days were gone. Lifeguard saught to sway her thoughts. But, realizing that to do so would force her to think about Neal, she retreated back into her memories. 

Learning that she was half-shiar was something she could only imagined in her wildest 7-year-old dreams. She and Davey would often make up stories of what their parrents must be like as they grew up in the orphanage. By the time that they were adopted by a nice couple living near the shoreline, the dreams had become more realistic. 

By the time they were both teenagers, they had stopped caring. Both had ocean-oriented lives with Heather as a lifeguard and Davis as an avid surfer. The difference was that Heather could make a little money with her occupation. Davey, now a young man, was still as reliant on his older sibling as always. 

Heather smiled. Even as they broke away from their folks, trying to live their own lives, Davis still seemed more of a boy than a man. Boyish naivette, boyish smile, boyish interests, boyish clothing...she hadn't been kidding about what she said to Neal when they first went to chaperone her brother's date with Storm. 

With light-colores slacks, shoes, and bright print shirt, it was the most she had ever seen her brother dress up. Heather sighed. As angry as she could be with the X-men for bringing her into this lifestyle, she had to admit...it had done Davey good. His crush on the regal weather witch made 'acting as an adult' seem more appealing. It made him want to grow up. She smiled beneath the inducer's illusion. She was proud of him. 

______________________________________ 

The lacky was proud of his work; he had finally found her. He gazed at the blond-haired Australian woman on the data screen. 

"Is that the one, master?" 

"No, you blithering idiot! That is his sister; show me the man!" 

"He...he is beyond our scope, master. We do not have access to the inside of their houses." 

"Then _get_ access, or you will be beyond all scope of existance." 

"Y...yes, master." 

Doom frowned. He desperately wanted his revenge, but he dared not rush things. His plan would not work without a teleporter. The blue one, Nightcrawler, did not have the raw power. The Cheney woman, the singer, was out of reach in some shi'ar galaxy. Only the Cammeron one would do: the one called Slipstream. 

________________________________ 

________________________________ 

Author's Notes: I'm incredibly sorry for delays, but I've been getting ready for school to start again and have been trying to enjoy my very last day of freedom. I'm not sure if the start of school will give me more or less time to work on this story, but in the meantime, I have a question: Outside of anything involving Rogue, Remy, and Franklin, what's your favorite sub-plot? Something to think on till next time! ^-^ 


	13. Impure Thoughts

Disclaimer: This is a *disclaimer* , which means that I am dissing Marvel for not allowing me to claim these characters for my own; otherwise, I wouldn't have bothered writing this sentence. 

________________________________ 

CHAPTER 13: IMPURE THOUGHTS 

________________________________ 

It was a morose thing for her to do, yet she could not help herself. The mutant known as Jean Grey-Summers was sorting and organizing the old photo albums of herself and her estranged husband. Her face was deceptive as it passively looked over the images of dinners, picnics, gatherings, and silly snap-shots. It was only at their wedding picture that she began to cry. 

She wanted to hate Emma for all she had done to break her and Scott apart. But she could hardly blame the woman for desiring and possessing the same man Jean had for years. But the redhead _could_ blame herself for letting the man go. True, Scott had shied away from her after his ordeal with Apocalypse, but Jean felt she could have been more open. She felt she should have stayed by his side, nagged him till he had to tell her what was wrong. But she had been passive. Given him too much space. _Waaayy_ too much space. 

Jean sobbed and grabbed a photo to vent her frustrations on. But before acting, she gazed at the image. This wasn't one of her and Scott, just of Scott. It was summer, and he had dressed accordingly. Baggy denim shorts, no shirt. He looked absolutely beautiful. His expression was sweet. She had snapped the photo herself, and he had been looking at her rather than the lens. Because of this, there had been a hint of desire in that handsome smile. 

Jean missed that. She missed him looking at her like that. She missed him making her feel like that. _Feel._ It had been so long since she'd felt loved or wanted. She gently touched a finger to her lips in an attempt to remember Scott's kiss. She nearly started crying all over again when no old memory would comfort her. And she needed comfort--_badly_. 

________________________________ 

Remy LeBeau gently knocked on the newcomer's door. Having given fair warning, he entered. 

"Jeanne?"† 

"Oh! Gambit!" 

"Y'can ju's call me Remy, chere," he noted her tears, " Have y'been cryin'?" 

"Oh, it's nothing--just looking at old pictures and reflecting over...changes." She held in her impulses to announce her frustration. 

"You okay, petite?" He frowned at her strange behavior. 

Unable to take anymore, she collapsed, crying into his shoulder. Remy held onto her awkwardly. He and Jean had never been very close. Even after Scott's absorption with Apocalypse when he had led the team, he still hadn't reached out to her anymore than she needed. Having her hugging him and crying on him was not something he would have predicted on the day's list of events. 

She sobbed into his shirt. 

"I...I was so angry, Remy. I wanted to hurt him--I've _never_ wanted to hurt him. But he'd been so cold, so --not Scott--that I didn't know what to do. He hasn't even kissed me in weeks except for appearance's sake. I...he wouldn't even _hold_ me for so long..." 

She hugged him closer, and warnings alarmed in Remy's head. Slowly, but firmly, he took hold of her shoulders and gently pushed her away from him. 

"Jeanne?" 

She looked into his eyes. He could feel the slightest psychic nudge in the back of his mind. 

"**Stop.**" 

Jean blinked. It wasn't exactly the most comforting thing she'd ever heard him say. 

"I know where dis is goin', chere, an' trust me, y'don't want it. If you really need help, I'll be here; an' so will Stormy an' de rest of de team. But I will _not_ replace y'husband." 

With those words, he turned and stormed out of the room. 

Jean crumpled on the couch, and began crying all over again into the cushion, horrified at what she had just nearly done. 

________________________________ 

They had done it. Rogue and Franklin brushed off the top of the old book case. It now held their academic activities for the year in it. The schooling would begin tomorrow. Rogue couldn't wait to tell Remy of their discoveries. 

Everything seemed convenient as she heard him coming down the hallway. 

"Hey Rems! Wanna see what the cat dragged--" 

"Chere, we need to talk." 

She blinked at his abrupt interruption. The southern bell noted the grim expression on his face. Something was horribly wrong. 

________________________________ 

Something felt exceedingly right. Maybe it was the sunlight, perhaps the fresh scent of the carnations in the garden, but for Ororo Munroe it was the pure sense of freedom. At the moment she was recalling an old children's rhyme... _no more teachers; no more books; no more teachers' dirty looks..._

The wind rider had always thought herself above such childish sentiments, but she couldn't help identify with the giddy excitement of a school child at the beginning of summer. With Logan gone, and her numerous hours of therapy, she now possessed a clean bill of health that no one could dispute. At that moment, the sun shone brightly in the Louisiana sky. 

Then a dark cloud formed. Davis. She wanted to have him with her to share the moment. Unfortunately, his therapy hours were far from completed. But then again, wasn't it Logan who had assigned him all those therapy restrictions? And wasn't Logan now gone? With an impish smile she called on the winds to lift her to the upper window. 

She could see the Australian surfer quite clearly from her vantage point. He had greatly improved. The bandage around his head was now gone, and he had regained much of his former grace in a few short days. She noted his calm expression. He had healed in both body and soul from the looks of it. She knew he longed for his surf board and a strong wave, but he seemed to be handling the balance beam quite well. 

He held his arms out evenly and crouched slightly as he slowly treaded across the thin wooden plank. Upon reaching the end, he straightened and retraced his steps in a quicker manner. The third time, he held his arms in and attempted to walk casually across the beam; halfway through, he tripped and fell. 

She nearly broke the window in trying to open it. But he then picked himself back up, and re-mounted the beam. The noise she had made at the window had alerted him to her presence, and he winked at her from where he stood. He then walked across the beam as though it had been an ordinary sidewalk. Leaping off the beam, he strolled over the ledge where she sat. He opened the window and smirked. 

"See somethin' yeh like, Ororo?" 

"No. I see _someone_ I like, which is even better." 

________________________________ 

"So that's why yeh were so interested in the LeBeau case?" 

"...Yes." 

Bishop had hesitated to answer in the affirmative. Teri was already trying to process the fact that he was a mutant. Telling her that he personally knew the thief that had been framed for an old crime-lord's murder would probably be over-doing it. 

She had taken the news well so far. He had begun by asking what her view on the 'mutant thing' was. She had replied that she didn't have a view. She'd never met a mutant, so she had no reason to form an opinion about them in general. He had then informed her that she had met a mutant by meeting him. Her eyes had widened in surprize, and she had been speechless for a bit. Then she began asking questions. 

"So what is it that you can do, exac'ly?" 

"I can absorb and store energy for later use. It won't protect me from a bullet or anything, but it's pretty affective against lazers and ray guns." 

"So when we went in to arrest the mafia members, yeh really were in as much danger as me?" 

"Yes." 

"Hunh. Jus' thought most mutants were invincible or somethin'. Guess I was wrong." 

"Are you...okay with this?" 

"Yeh mean with ya bein' a mutant?" 

"Yes." 

"Sure." 

Bishop smiled. He hadn't felt this great since the last time he had polished his gun collection. 

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Author's Notes: I guess some people are wondering: "Was there a point to that scene with Jean?" Ohhh...sorta. This is my first time trying for something this dramatic. I wanted to push my limits in portraying relationships. Thing is, Jean's pretty messed up right now. I know a lot of people hate her, and I think that's because of X-men:Evolution. The show inacurately depics her as a 'perfect little cheerleader'. But that's not who Jean Grey is. She's an X-man who suffers as much as anyone on the team. As for the trouble she's caused this chapter, hopefully it will only make Rogue and Remy's relationship stronger. As for the others, I'm having fun toying with their hearts too. See ya'll next chapter. Please review! 

†Jeanne: I think it's sort of a French pronounciation of "Jean". I've seen it used in fanfiction and I'm fairly certain that Remy has also called her by this name in the comics. It's just another form of friendly endearment, like "chere" or "petite". 


	14. Guiltless Confession

Review Responses: 

xxFleurdelySxx-- I know what you mean about the Jean/John thing. It kinda messed me up a little when I first saw Jean-luc LeBeau's name in print. About the proposals, be patient. The romance comes before the wedding bells, so you might as well enjoy it. And I'm sorry if you don't always get the X-treme references. But reading my story 'Quadruple Wedding' might summarize quite a bit of the history for you if you're interested. 

xXrogue-demonXx--Doom is an old villain from the Fantastic Four. It's been a long time since I've read those comics, but I remembered him, and another reviewer suggested that I use him in the story and I felt it was a good idea. I'm really glad you're liking it, by the way. 

Wishful Thinking2--So you like the fact that Bishop hadn't been that happy since he had polished his gun collection? Sweet! as for 'no more homework', I've heard different versions of that song, I just picked one and had Ororo think of it. As for Jean? Well, maybe I'm biased, but if I were Jean, I'd pick Remy over Logan any day. 

T, Misa1124, Lucky439, Dema Davis-- I'm really sorry to have kept you guys waiting so long. Hopefully, ya'll will enjoy this chapter with all its drama and sub-plots enough to forgive me! So enjoy the read! 

Sue Penkivech--I was actually quite careful with Franklin's choice in textbooks. I've been homeschooled myself, and I wanted the boy to get a good education. As for Logan, he seems to have escaped Robo-ben for the moment, but we'll never know, will we? 

Pookie Sanchez--I may not have much time during the school year, but it's not much of an excuse for this long of a wait. But, I've got some more Storm/Davey this chapter for ya! 

Green Eyed Lilys Daughter-- I understand the 'reading not reviewing' thing, since I do it myself. But if you break the habit, I'd reeeaaally appreciate it! As for Franklin, I don't really have too much difficulty with his character, because I sorta substitute myself for him in my writing. I was an only child with a semi-mature head on my shoulder, but I was still a kid. But until your review, I never thought of myself as an oxymoron. @_^ As for the Australia/foster home thing, sorry. I didn't exactly do my research back there. Heck, I didn't do _any_ research. I just assumed. Can we just pretend I said 'foster homes'? I actually have quite a few mistakes in this story to correct. (like the 'Harry's Hideaway' in New Orleans thing) But I want to focus more on the story right now, and go back to correct the mistakes later. Till then, bear with me? Please? 

Disclaimer: This is a *disclaimer* , which means that I am dissing Marvel for not allowing me to claim these characters for my own; otherwise, I wouldn't have bothered writing this sentence. 

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CHAPTER 14: GUILTLESS CONFESSION 

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Its lonesome whine bore a strong resemblance to the sound of metal creaking. Appropriate, since the chrome-colored mutt was indeed made out of metal. It wandered the halls in a desperate search for its adamantium-skeletoned, hairy, chewtoy. But the Wolverine was nowhere to be found. 

He continued his small cry. His chewtoy was just the size he'd always wanted. His teeth had just begun to break the thing in with some permanent indentations when he'd lost it. He didn't know where he had left it, so he continued padding up and down the halls. 

"Would you please--whatever that is--stop it!" 

It was one of the precious few moments in which Sage showed any emotion at all. In such a case, agravation, but there was no one to see it. Looking down at the programmable puppy, she realized the problem, allowing an idea to form in her head. 

"Robo-Ben, come here." 

The dog did not respond. Sage paused and thought to herself. It shouldn't have surprized her that the dog payed as much attention to her commands as to Logan's. She considered his programmer. Reed Richards might have arranged for the small guardian to respond to Franklin's voice alone, but then how could he control the dog over his son? Perhaps there was some code-word used to elicit a response from a commander other than Franklin. 

"Robo-Ben, _please_ come here." 

The pup trotted on its fours up to her feet. She shook her head in light amusement. No wonder Logan's pleas had gone unheeded; the thing only responded to people with _manners_. 

She led the mechanical pet into her room and reached into her closet. Lugging out one of her extra computers, she extricated some wires from its control panel. After taking a minute to search the dog for an outlet, she plugged the wires into his ear. She then began to flip through one of her briefcases as she pulled a disk from one corner. She inserted it into the computer and began customizing the program. 

When they had first gone into production, the mutant once known as Tessa had bought a child's toy called a giga pet. She had bought it out of a mild curiosity, interested in seeing how a computer-chip-based interface could be used to keep a child entertained. She was glad she had saved it; for now she was able to modify it to suit her new companion's needs. 

In a matter of seconds, the puppy on the screen and the puppy before her became one animal: leaping, moving, and playing with a 2-dimensional ball that wasn't there. Sage smiled to herself. For now, they could both have their silence and peace of mind. 

________________________________ 

She had just set his mind at ease. 

_ I see **someone** I like, which is even better. _

Funny how Ororo could make a guy have fun being serious. His smirk flowed into a sincere smile as he pointed to the clouds behind her with a wistful glance. 

"With a beauty of a day like this, I'd be surfin' the waves back home." 

"Why don't you do it here?" 

He gestured out the window to the ground and swamps beyond. 

"Nothin' ta make a wave with." 

She leaned in close to him, adorning a secretive smile. 

"That is where you are wrong." 

His eyes narrowed in questioning as he helped her pull herself from the window into the gym. 

"Wait here. I have something to show you." 

Davis watched her glide out of the room. He felt a boyish grin cross his love-struck features. 

When she finally emerged from behind the door, she was carrying a very special object with her.... 

"My surfboard!" 

"You left it behind at the hospital, so I kept it for you." 

"I....thanks Ororo." 

She had held onto it for that long? His mind reeled at the meanings. Not only would it mean she wasn't angry with him now, but she hadn't even been angry when he left. At least, not angry enough to throw away something she knew to be precious to him. He gave her a look of gratitude as she continued to speak. 

"I don't know if you are strong enough to use your powers yet. Teleportation, even at a short distance, is hard work and Surfer's Paradise is very far away. But I have a solution to our dilemma, and we won't even need an ocean. Will you fly with me?" 

"Oi! Yes!" 

________________________________ 

"Allright, Sugah, now what's got ya tail in such a bind that ya can't even see straight?" 

Remy LeBeau opened his mouth to reply...then paused. It had seemed so simple when he'd asked to speak with her. Tell her immediately what had nearly happened between Jean and himself before he returned to the habit of lying to Rogue. But now that she was here, in front of him, it was all he could do to just stay silent. His chere had such a look of love and trust in her eyes, that even though he had done nothing wrong, he still felt between a rock and a hard place. Gathering his courage, he began again. 

"It...it be about Jean, petite." 

"What about her?" 

"I don' t'ink she be feelin' right in de head." 

"Well, Ah heard thangs had been rathah rocky between her an' Scott lately, so that's gotta be rough on her. But what makes ya think that?" 

The moment of truth. 

"She tried t'kiss me." 

Rogue just stared. 

"Ah...Ah don't think Ah really know what ta say..." 

Both southerners looked down for a minute, not daring to be the first to face the other. Finally, Rogue spoke again. 

"Um...back, before we got back togetha...when we were leadin' the teams--When Scott was absorbed by Apocalypse and 'ro was on vacation--did she seem at all attracted to ya then?"† 

Remy almost breathed a sigh of relief; she didn't blame him. 

"Non. She was friendlier--prob'ly a lot lonlier--but she didn' try t'make anyt'in' of it. Chere, I really don' t'ink she's after me, or anytin'. I t'ink she just misses Scott." 

"Well, there's only one thang ta do about _that_." 

"Oh?" 

He saw her smile return. 

"We gotta get Cyke an' Red back togethah before she tries ta take away mah man!" 

________________________________ 

"Tell me another!" 

Neal scratched his head. Another? He didn't have any left. He looked down at Franklin. The boy's attention was focused solely upon the Indian X-man, completely engaged in the tales of Sinbad the sailor. Neal had felt that such a young boy shouldn't spend so much time in front of a TV, and had begun telling him the tails of high adventure that had trapped his own attention when he was the boy's age. 

Perhaps there were a few more to tell, as well as the stories of Scheherezade, but he wanted to save those for another time. If he was going to tell the child another, he would have to make it up on his own. 

"Alright. I'll tell you the story few know...of the woman Sinbad loved as he loved no other." 

"Will there be monsters in it?" 

"Wait and see." 

The young Richards quieted down. 

"On one of the great Sinbad's travels, he wrecked his ship upon a reef of yet another mysterious island. Though his crew did not die, they became separated from him. Somehow, Sinbad ended up on the opposite side of the island. When he woke up, he was startled, because had had never seen a woman like the one that was tending him." 

"Was she the one he loved--" 

"Hush! I'm getting there!" 

The boy quieted, and Neal fought to visualize his inspiration. 

"She had golden skin, and wide blue eyes that sparkled like lilies on the water. Strange other-wordly designs showed themselves on her face and arms. Her nails were long and sharp, though her hands were gentle. She was as tall as he was, and the scales on her body--" 

"Scales?" 

"Hush! Yes, scales! 

"Ya sure she wasn't a monster?" 

Neal grumbled to himself. Surely he had never been this bad in interrupting his father's stories when they had been told to him. Had he? 

________________________________ 

They all told their stories. Heather listened with close attention to the man vending sunglasses on the street. 

"...So den, I say t' m'man, Theo Boudreoux, 'Dat all y'got, homme?, or are y'gonna start howlin' like dat monkey now?'" 

The man laughed at his own joke, leaving Lifeguard with a slightly puzzled expression. She looked down at her choices. If the man had been nice enough to tell her a story that (he thought) was entertaining, she could at least buy a pair of sunglasses from him. 

She carefully dipped inside her purse. Remy had warned her to do it often, since he knew firsthand what kind of thieves roamed the New Orleans' streets. She quickly figured that she had enough money to buy one pair, the only question was 'which one'? 

She picked up a rose-tinted pair, as another young man walked up to her. 

"No, no," said the man, "That'll never work for you. Try these." the man extracted a lightly dark tinted pair that seemed to come from nowhere. "They'll protect you're eyes, but their light enough that you can where them indoors if you feel like it." 

"Oh, okay. Thanks." She checked the mirror; they did look pretty sharp on her, actually. 

She paid and turned the thank the man, but he was already gone. She checked her purse. Well, he might've been strange, but at least he wasn't a thief. She wondered at his lack of accent. Perhaps he was a tourist, or simply new to the state. With these few ponderous thoughts, she returned home. She'd gotten in her shopping, she just hoped it would make up for any fighting she had to do with Neal once she returned home. 

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Author's Notes: I am very very sorry. I can't remember _ever_ taking this long to update. I just hope ya'll haven't forgotten this story completely! I've just been very busy with school and had a hard time sitting down to type. It's been quite hectic. I also apologize for not giving thanks and shoutouts last chapter. I had intended to, but I got in a hurry to post and didn't realize that I hadn't even typed up the thank yous yet. But, if you review (yes, YOU!), I will try not to do it again and update much sooner. See ya then! Adieu! 

† My apologies to anyone who doesn't keep up with the comics. During the 'Mutant Revolution' when Chris Claremont first returned to writing X-men, there was a time when the X-men were divided into 2 teams. Gambit led one, Rogue led the other. Cyclops was gone and Ororo wouldn't lead for some reason. Jean was on Gambit's team. Some people wrote a fanfic story or two paring Jean and Remy together. I kinda addressed it here. 

PS.-- Anyone still interested in joining the hit list so you can know when I update? 


	15. Memorable Venture

Review Responses:

Pookie Sanchez—Remy & Jean is a funny thought, isn't it?  Thought so.

Duct Tape Pro—I believe it was X-men ish #100.  As for X-men chronology, I couldn't tell ya.  But a full Rogue/Gambit chronology can be found at www.gambitguild.com.  Just go to 'Rogambit'.

T.—Yes!  I am back…and ya still love it, dontcha?

Jean1—I think that there probably was a time when Rogue would 'fly off the handle' as you said, but such a time is past in X-treme.  There, I feel that both Rogue and Gambit have matured for themselves and for their relationship.  I try to remember that in my story, and still remember to include the fun!

Green Eyed Lily's Daughter—Of course X-treme #1-10 was good!  Would I write about something that wasn't good? Of course I wouldn't!  Now read on with a fuller understanding!

xX-rogue-demon-Xx—Yes, it was short, wasn't it?  Does this chapter make up for it?

Wishful Thinking2--:The Hit List Queen twirls around in her big comfy office chair, cackling madly…The contract may as well have been written in stone for its finality!:

Escape into a daydream--"This story flows like any mainstream novel that you would buy in a bookstore, and even better than some of them!"  That has got to be the nicest thing a reviewer as has ever said to me.  And yes, I did write this chapter when I should have been doing homework.  But at least you can count on me to keep it clean!

Disclaimer: You can make use of practically anything that can be used, and still not own it. If you think that doesn't apply to X-men, then what are you reading this for? 

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CHAPTER 15: MEMORABLE VENTURE 

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Slipstream's eyes widened in surprise. The next thing he knew, he was coughing up cloud moisture. Trying to get his head above the still-hovering precipitation, her searched for Storm's hand. He knew that the winds she was channeling would keep him aloft, but he wanted her guidence just the same. 

It was slightly different from riding the waves. The wind was much harder against his face, much more challenging. When he was on the water, he could only go forward. The winds, however, could change--not only in how _high_ they soared--but in which direction. More spontaneous. He yelled and screamed with the adrenaline rush. 

Davey stopped his cries when he felt a gentle preassure on his hand. Ororo held it. Her gentle blue eyes were wide with concern and curiosity. She had heard his calls over the noise of the gale, and had come soaring to see if they were from fear or exilaration. He gave her a reasuring smile as he ushered her to share the surf board with him. 

She accepted the space he made, even though she didn't need it. The fact that she could fly on her own was beside the point. This was about sharing the experience. She placed her feet in front of Davis's as she extended her arms behind her for him to grasp. He took her hand, eventually moving his hands up to her shoulders. They remained that way for a time as they hurtled over the dafts of air. They held on to each other a little tighter as a particularly rough rush hit them as they passed though a dense cloud. 

It was then that Storm began to feel strange. The wind in her hair seemed to stop for a moment, and she could not feel anything--not even her own body. She felt the sensation of falling. She could see nothing but an endless white as she tried to call out. 

Just as quickly as it came, the sensation ended, and she felt Davey's arms wrapped tightly around her as they splashed down into the ocean water below. She shook her head. Ocean water? She pulled herself up into a sitting position on the shore as soon as she felt his grasp lessen. She was greeted by a sight she had seen only once before: sunset over Surfer's Paradise. 

It was absolutely beautiful. And it was absolutely against the rules. Davis was not supposed to use his powers of teleportation so early after his recovery; it was dangerous. She turned to chastize him, only to be greeted by his innocent azure eyes and increasingly happy smile. They were so close, that their noses were but a hair's width from touching--and the distance was quickly closing further. His smile was still there when she tried to scold him, and his smile was still there when he began to kiss her. There would be time for scolding later--Ororo Munroe was too distracted at the moment...distracted with kissing back. 

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RING! 

"Hello, Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters, Professor Xavier speaking." 

"Hiya, Professuh!" 

"Rogue? I haven't heard from you in ages!" 

"Ah know. But dontcha worry, this is actually a semi-personal call." 

"Semi-personal?" 

"Yup. How's Scott?" 

"He's fine. May I ask why--" 

"How is he _really_, Professuh?" 

"...Uptight...even for Scott." 

"Thought so. Look, Ah'll cut right to it. The deal is that Jean's ovah here, so _she's_ miserable. Scott's ovah there, so _he's_ miserable. Ya love both of 'em, so _ya'll_ are miserable. An' the rest o' the team has ta deal with 'em so _they're_ miserable. Maybe if we stick ol' Slim an' Red in a room tagethah again--given the propah romantic settin'--we'll _all_ be a lil' _less_ miserable." 

"If only it were that simple, my child." 

"Who's ta say it ain't?" 

"I am." 

"Then ya get all the blame, too. The bumps in their marriage might be their fault, but their eternal separation will be yours." 

"When did you get this dramatic?" 

"When ya weren't lookin'. Now are ya gonna ship Cyke down ta N'awlins, or do Ah have ta drag him?" 

"Very well; I'll see what I can do." 

"Ya do that. In the meantime, have a nice evenin'!" 

"Goodbye, Rogue." 

CLICK. 

________________________________ 

Bishop kicked back in his chair and listened with close attention. He planned to see Teri tomorrow, and thus planned to go to bed early, but he figured he would stay around long enough to see the end of the story. 

He watched as his Indian teammate regalled the young Richards with the story few had heard of Sinbad: of the woman he loved most in the world. Lucas couldn't help feeling that the description Neal gave of the woman sounded awfully like another of his teammates, but he kept his mouth shut. 

As the story went, the golden woman was named Sh'iara and she healed Sinbad in both body and soul. Before shipwrecking on the island, Sinbad had said goodbye to a woman named Princess Eliza, knowing he would never see her again. Sh'iara made him forget his sadness and filled him with joy. Eventually, a time came when Sinbad was ready to go home and Shi'ara did not wish to go with him. She was afraid that his men would judge her for her golden skin. Sinbad eventually convinced her to join him, but she was forever afraid of what others thought of her. 

One night, Sh'iara awoke from a bad dream on Sinbad's ship. She walked out on the deck, only to be haunted the images from her own mind. They were her fears. Fear of judgement, fear of hatred, and fear that she was not as beautiful as Sinbad told her she was. Eventually, the creaks of a ship at sail became an ambush in her mind. She pictured all his crew coming to slay her in the night. Rather than be taken by her childish phantoms, she cast herself into the sea and was lost to Sinbad forever. 

The references to Neal's own life were not lost on Bishop. Losing Psylocke had been the most disenheartening thing to happen to the team. Her and Neal's relationship had only begun to flourish when he found himself mourning her death. 

When the young Indian man began to develop a relationship with Heather, it looked as though he would fully heal from the emotional scars. But then Lifeguard began mutating further till her ability to revert to a metal form could no longer be reversed. That, coupled with her Shi'ar features, had given her a monstrous case of insecurity. The way she kept tearing herself down was harmful to both Neal and herself. Bishop could only hope for both their sakes that Heather would come to realize what she was doing, and stop. 

He lifted his head upon hearing the door open. His thoughts on the Aussie woman seemd appropriate: she had returned home. 

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Victor Von Doom cackled to himself, for his plan had worked. The sunglasses that his lackey had given to the Cammeron woman were light enough that she had forgotten to take them off. As a result, the tiny camera lens on the rim of the glasses allowed him to see everything the Aussie saw, the very heart of the X-men's home. 

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Author's Notes: Well, I'd say this is a pretty punctual chapter. This story, so far, is not as Rogue-Remy-Franklin centric as I had planned it to be, but I'm having quite a bit of fun with the extended roster of characters. In fact, I'm even drawing them. I've already set to work on a Reclaiming Innocence Fanart Gallery, where I can keep illustrations to go with my story. When I'm ready to post stuff, I'll give ya'll the URL. In the meantime, wish me luck. I don't know if I'll be as on-time with Chpt. 16, but reviews help! 

PS.-- Anyone still interested in joining the hit list so you can know when I update? 


	16. Unexpected Reasoning

Wishful Thinking2--A different collection of characters are displayed this chapter...I hope you enjoy it!

Pookie Sanchez--Doom? He's evil, and he's the mortal enemy of Franklin's parrents. But don't worry about him right away. A lot of other things are going to happen before Doom becomes the central story.

xXrogue-demonXx--Well, I hope this one is long enough for you.

Green Eyed Lilys Daughter--The sun might not set over the sea, but it still sets, right? The picture I drew might not be accurate, but I think my wording might be solid yet. As for Doom, not too much of his this chapter, but maybe next!

Darkthedestroyer--Here's more, and thank you for the idea of using Victor Von Doom!

Disclaimer: Wanting something and having it are two different things. 

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CHAPTER 16: UNEXPECTED REASONING 

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Scott ground his teeth in frustration. The story of there being potential dangers in New Orleans and need of an extra X-man didn't cut it for him. It was an excuse to get rid of him, he was sure of it. But what had he done wrong? What was so terrible that he had to spend the next several weeks under Storm's command? He had tried to drag the answer out of Xavier, but to no avail. He could do nothing but pack his bags and prepare to leave. Not that the leaving itself was something he minded. 

Emma had seemed particularly moody in the last several days. Even though her temper didn't usually bother him, he was getting tired of not knowing what she was thinking. But then again, he hadn't been very sociable towards her either. Watching Jean walk out the door had taken away any pleasure he had in Emma's company. 

He was filled with a conflicting mix of emotions. He and Jean had almost always known where they stood since they were teenagers. The thing that had always bothered him, was that when he returned, Jean wouldn't use her telepathy. She wanted him to _tell_ her what was wrong, but he couldn't put it into words. It was as though Apocalypse had found a darkness inside of him that he hadn't known existed, and exploited it. He couldn't describe it to anyone without cringing inside. Not even his wife. 

He had started hanging out with Emma for various reasons. The first, was that she never asked about his problems. The second was that Emma was...well, Emma. The way she dressed, walked, and talked were all designed to attract him and men like him. All men, really. He might never have found anything deep or meaningful in his discussions with her, but it was a nice distraction. 

But there was something he had not counted on. Not once had he thought Jean might leave him. To him, Jean had been like the institute itself: always there, always reliable. Her presence was as certain as dawn the next day. Until now. He wanted her back. Because he wanted her, or because he wanted normalcy, he did not know; he knew only that he wanted her back. But what would he say? "Jean, I miss you doing my laundry and giving me the cold shoulder when I go to see Emma. Would you please come back to me."? 

Yeah, right. 

He wanted time to sort it out in his head. Maybe speak with her, so she could help him sort it out. Instead, he was getting shipped off to New Orleans. 

________________________________ 

In one week and five days, she would be shipped off back to Australia. Teri tried not to think about it as she undressed, preparing to don her nightgown. Unfortunately, it wasn't working as planned. 

She was distracted. She hanged her jacket on the doorknob, but it fell off. She didn't bother to pick it up. She unclipped all six earings and placed them in the wrong box. She removed her clothes and threw them at the laundry basket, but missed. And in the end, she put her nightgown on backwards. 

Lucas Bishop was a mutant. It was a newly learned fact that completely baffled her. She knew it shouldn't make any difference what he was, as long as it wasn't illegal; but the thought still nagged at her brain. She found it both frightening and intriguing. 

To her, mutants were things you heard and read about that never happened to you. She had thought on occasion, that there might be mutants who led normal lives undetected. She had never thought that she might know one. Or be attracted to one. 

She shook her head--she couldn't allow herself to think that way. Lucas was a partner, and a friend. Making a relationship more than that, would only complicate the situation and make the other person harder to work with. But lying also made partners harder to work with. And Bishop had certainly waited a while to tell her what he was....so what other secrets was he hiding? 

She picked up her cell phone and began to dial a number. She hesitated over the final buttons, wondering if she was doing the right thing. If she made the call, would she be breaking Lucas' trust? Or just playing it safe? She stamped her foot in frustration, and punched in the final digits. It was best to do this quickly, before any other doubts plagued her. 

"Headquarters." 

"Hey, Gavin, this is Baltimore." 

"H'lo, Teri." 

"Um, c'n yeh get me a file on Lucas Bishop?" 

"Bishop? That tall, dark fella that was nosing in on the LeBeau case?" 

"And helped me break the mafia ring, yah." 

"Sure, what'ya want it for?" 

"Oh...yeh know me--curiouser than a kitten." 

"I'll see what I can do, Teri." 

"Thanks, mate. I'll check in with yeh later when I'm off vacation." 

They said their good-byes and set down the phones. But on her end, Teri wondered. Was Lucas Bishop for real? 

________________________________ 

The tension Jean Grey-Summers was feeling was very real. After half an hour of crying, she had discovered that feeling sorry for oneself really didn't do one any good. So, she had picked herself up off the couch and followed her nose to the kitchen. But there was a catch: Remy was the chef. 

"Could y' pass me dat plate of green peppers, chere?" 

Jean froze, startled. She had walked in behind him, and the padding of her feet had probably given her away. Picking up the plate he requested, she realized that he still might not know it was her. He didn't have Wolverine's sense of smell, so he probably guessed from the sound of her footsteps that Ororo or Rogue had come in to help him. She walked forward with the plate. If she was lucky, she could hand it to him before he turned around and recognized her. It would allow her to avoid a very awkward confrontation. 

No such luck. He turned to take the plate from her hand, and saw her. He paused, but quickly regained his composure, proceeding to stir the chopped up pepper in the pot. 

"...I...May I explain?" 

"S'long as Remy c'n keep cookin' and y'don't move." 

Jean nodded. Once they began, any gesture could be misinterpreted. She sat down in a chair and stared at the floor. 

"Um, may I open a telepathic link--" 

"Non. Y'gonna talk t'rough dis like ev'ryone else 'round here." 

Jean winced. Showing him what she thought would be easier, but she understood that he didn't want to feel any emotions that might not be his own. 

"I'm sorry I..." she searched for a word. "...hurt you. I've been putting up a tough front for Xavier and the students, but it's fake. I've been pretty messed up inside lately, and holding it in has only made it worse. I was looking for some sort of comfort...and I went about it the wrong way. I tried to use my powers to impose my will on you, and I'm sorry. It's the very thing I've been taught _not_ to do from the beginning, and it's the very thing I did." 

His back remained turned to her, stirring peppers, meat, and spices. There was no indication that he had heard her. 

"I...I...I'm sorry. Do you forgive me?" 

The stirring stopped, and the cajun lifted his head a little. His tone was dream-like and distant. 

"Do y'know how strange it is to hear somet'in like _dat_ from someone like _you_?" 

Jean frowned. "I don't quite get what you're saying." 

He turned a little, still not quite facing her. 

"Remember what Remy was like when he first came t'Xaviers, petite?" 

"You...tried to kiss me."† 

"Exac'ly. In de beginin', always t'ought dat if anyone was gonna be breakin' some hearts or messin' wit' relationships 'round here, it would be Gambit. Never s'spected dat _you_ would turn de tables on _me_. I'm sorry 'bout you an' Scott, cherie, but don't do dis again." 

"I won't." 

He met her gaze. His eyes were serious, but his lips smirked a little, as though thinking of a private joke. 

"Well, y' went f'moi stead' of Bish or Neal, so I gotta admit dat y'got good taste. I'll let y'go, chere, but on condition." 

Jean raised her eyes in questioning. 

"Y'gotta 'round everyone up. Dinner be served, an' Remy can't eat it all by himself." 

She got up from her seat and turned to go. 

"An' Jeanne, one more t'ing..." 

She paused. 

"I tol' Rogue 'bout what y'did. So tread carefully 'round m'feme." 

Jean nodded as she left, but her steps had become a touch more fearful. 

________________________________ 

"You do realize that Remy is probably preparing dinner right now, don't you?" 

"Yeh friend's an understanding bloke, Ororo, I don't think he'll mind that much if we're a lil' late." 

They were walking along the shore, dragging their feet in the sand. The twilight was growing darker, and Ororo worried about how they would get back. 

"I wish you'd give a warning when you use your powers, not everyone can ride the 'warp wave' as well as you do." 

Davis shrugged. 

"I figured, that if I asked, y'd say 'no'". 

"You would have been right. I don't want to see you in any danger." 

"I might not be what yeh'd call an 'X-perienced X-man', but I know when I'm well enough to use my powers." 

"Did you use them in your time away from us?" 

Davis Cammeron sighed. The day so far had been like a dream. Flying and laughing with Ororo had been so wonderful he wanted it to last forever. But now his head was out of the clouds, and Ororo wanted to know about his past: where he had gone after deserting the team. 

"I used them to get away from alla you." 

The wind-riders face tightened in concern, realising where the conversation was headed. 

"I can't seem to use 'em for short distances. I tried doin' that in Madripoor and ended up in America. I had to ask around a bit before I figured where I was. I kept encountering bunches a' yanks that didn't want to tell me anything. Turned out, I was in Kansas." 

"Kansas?" 

"Yep. I didn't have any money on me, so I slept on a bench in a park. I guess I musta been in a pretty nice area, since I didn't run int' any muggers right away. It turned out t'be a pretty well-guarded area too, since I almost got arrested for loiterin'." 

"For loitering?" 

"Okay, beggin'." His cheeks turned red. "I guess it was illegal to ask for some spare change for food when you look a bloody sight. I didn't want to end up behind bars, so I warped outa there. I ended up directin' myself north, and ended up in New York. I was worried that if I used my powers too much, I'd end up...well, like Heather. So I promised myself I'd lay off so I wouldn't mutate any more than I already was. I ran into a bunch a' dubious-lookin' yanks. I guess they jus' decided they didn't like me, so they started beatin' up on me. I almost broke my promise not to warp out when this old lady started screamin' 'bloody murder' and makin' a big scene. People started crowdin' around, and the mugs ran fer it. Someone was nice enough to get me to a hospital, but I never got a chance to thank 'em. Never even saw their face." 

Ororo placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. They remained that way for a while, watching the rise of the moon. 

"Davis, we need to leave." 

"I know. I jus'...I just missed this is all." 

"I understand. I would like to do this again sometime, a talk between the two of us." 

"Me too....So, best be headin' back, then?" 

"Yes, lets." 

"Um...I know I can take passengers without touching them, but it would be a little nicer if, y'know, you...hung on?" 

The young surfer was scratching the back of his head with his head bowed. A blush was evident on his face from his request. The weather-witch smiled. 

"I would be honored." 

She gently slipped her arms around his neck as they began the journey home. 

________________________________ 

________________________________ 

Author's Notes: Okay, so I didn't switch between as many characters as I've been trying to, but I was trying to make the character interaction (and the chapter) longer, so I didn't deal with as many people. We should be seeing more of Rogue, Franklin, Sage, Robo-ben, and Doom next chapter. Definitely more of Franklin if nothing else. This fic is supposed to star him, and I haven't been doing much with his character lately. I'll try to remedy that. As for the fanart gallery, it's at 

Check it out! 

† X-men ish #1. He didn't actually kiss her; he smootched a cerebro-created construct of her instead.(afterwards, it blew up in his face) It wasn't until a few issues later that he started dating Rogue. 

PS.-- Anyone still interested in joining the hit list so you can know when I update? 


	17. Dark Reactions

xXrogue-demonXx , T-- Dealing with Franklin this chapter, so don't worryJukebox --here's an update for ya!khay --Wow! Thank you! I have an idea of how difficult that must have been for you! I've written a lot of stories, and it must have been a lot of work for you to read them all in one sitting! It's the greatest compliment and I hope to repay with an excellent chapter.. And consider yourself signed onto the hit list!Wishful Thinking2 --hope you're recovered from the flu by now Pookie Sanchez Through the Fantastic Four, Franklin and Doom share a history, but is that history revlevant to the story? Wait and see!Nicole Dernencourt--Doom is an old enemy of the Fantastic Four, which is the name of the superhero team that Franklin's parrents belonged to. He's got reason to hold a grudge against a little boy of Franklin's parrentage, considering the fact that his sanity is highly questionable. As for Remy, no. He does not have his powers. They were taken away after the Madripoor scenario in the X-treme comic book. For the same reasons, Rogue is misssing her mutant abilities as well. However, this doesn't make either of them a liability for two reasons: a) they still have their fighting skills and b) they're semi-retired anyway. But all this could change at the drop of a hat.... 

Recap: 1) Scott got shipped off to New Orleans. 2) Teri Baltimore began to check Bishop's background. 3) Jean explained why she kissed Remy [and is dreading Rogue's reaction]. 4) Davis explained where he'd been during his sabatical from the X-men.

Disclaimer: I've been told that I write the X-men well. That being the case, if I ever become a best-selling author, I'll be sure to use my wealth to buy the X-men. Unfortunately, I use my tallent to write about the X-men which I do not own, and therefore cannot make any money to buy them. I get the feeling that this set-up has been rigged. 

_____________________________ 

CHAPTER 17: DARK REACTIONS 

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Rogue set her chair so close to Remy, she was practically sitting in his lap. She never asked for food to be passed to her. Rather, she reached across the table, taking every opportunity to enclose the Cajun with her arm; she shot furtive glances at Jean Grey-Summers as she did so. 

Heather and Neal would not look at one another despite Bishop's attempts to engage them all in conversation. Eventually, Heather took lead, rambling about the various items she had shopped for. It eventually prompted Franklin to talk about the books he and Rogue had gathered. From that point, it developed into a discussion about education. 

Rogue, Heather, and Remy argued about the importance of knowing regular school subjects. There was no guarantee that when Franklin grew up, he would want to be a superhero. He should at least have the option of living like a 'normal' person, and have a school education. 

Neal and Bishop sided with vigilante training. Franklin was a mutant, and should know how to fight like one. Remy then pointed out that Bishop's training hadn't helped much when Franklin had faced off against the playground children. Bishop's face turned red, making Remy sorry for the low blow. But it was still a valid point. 

It was then that Ororo and Davis arrived. They were late, but fashionably so. Remy noted the skin-to-skin contact and secretive glances between the two of them. He wondered if he should talk with them about their developing relationship, or mind his own business. He doubted that Davis knew of the wind-rider's background with her teammate Forge, but he didn't want to intrude on what was growing between his padnat and her new love-interest. 

Their presence lightened the tension slightly, though it caused Heather to grow suddenly quiet. Rogue was concerned. Apparently, the Australian siblings still hadn't spoken to each other since Slipstream's arrival. 

Sage did not join them. She was as secluded in her room as ever. But this time, she was actually having fun. She discovered that Robo-ben had an amazing capacity for speed-calculation. Together, they had logged onto a web site with various mathematical puzzles. They competed, each trying to solve the puzzle first. 

When Sage had not responded to Jean's call for dinner, Remy had gone up himself to see what was taking the human computer so long. Watching the woman's expression focused soley on the screen, and the robtic puppy's occasional yip, Remy smiled and closed the door without disturbing them. 

When dinner was over, everyone retired to their rooms. Everyone except Jean, who had to do the dishes as part of her unspoken penance. 

________________________________ 

Dear Diary, 

My name is Franklin, and I'm your new owner. I own a lot of other things too. I own a teddy bear, a buncha puzzles, some things that usta belong to Mommy and Daddy, and a dog named Robo-ben. I also have a new family. 

I don't know what to think when I write that last part. It feels good because I know Remy, Rogue (She bought ya for me), an' alla the others care about me. But it also feels bad because my family is supposed ta be Mommy, Daddy, Unca Ben, and Unca Johny. But they're dead. So, I don't know what ta think. 

I don't cry a lot about it anymore, though. I usta cry a lot before Remy took me to live here. When I'm with the X-men, I'm so busy and keepin' track of so many things, I forget that I'm supposed to be sad that Mommy and Daddy are gone. It doesn't feel like they died. I just feels like--alla a sudden--they weren't there anymore. Kinda like my powers: something's something...and then it isn't. The Fantastic Four were my family...and now the X-men are. 

I don't really think of 'em as the X-men anymore though. I think they're the thing Daddy and Mommy wanted to be: retired. I mean, if something bad happens, X-men go to stop it, but not the ones I'm with. I guess I just think of 'em as Remy, Rogue, Mr. Bishop, Ms. Storm, Neal, an' the golden robot-lady. Oh, an' Davis too. I don't wanna think about Sage, though. She's scary. 

Robo-ben doesn't really wanna play with me anymore. He usta like that scary man--Mr. Logan--but he likes Sage now. I guess that's because Daddy made Robo-ben like to count. Now, he plays counting games with Sage all day long, an' they never come outa that room. 

But at least I've got books an' stuff to learn from now. Rogue's gonna learn everything that's in those books, and is gonna teach me. She's really, _really_ nice. I don't know why Remy doesn't wanna marry her. Ok, so he _does_ wanna marry her, I still don't get why he won't do it now! He told me he's afraid, but what's ta be scared of? I know Rogue tol' me not ta push they two of 'em into anything, but for grown-ups, they're acting kinda stupid. That's why Rogue needs ta read all those books before I do. Maybe they'll make her smarter. Maybe she should make Remy read 'em too. 

Oh! I gotta go. I hear the doorbell ringin' and grown-ups always think that someone else is gonna answer it, so it never gets answered. I gotta take care of that... 

--Franklin Richards. 

________________________________ 

Scott Summers was a difficult man to shock. He had spent nearly his entire life since puberty fighting insane villains, dealing with mutant crisis, handling other-worldly negotiations, and coping with an unbelievably complicated family tree. But all this couldn't change the fact that the couldn't move at the sight of his wife standing a distance away from the door that had been answered by a small blond-haired boy. 

_"I'm going to see about Franklin Richards in New Orleans."_

Upon second reaction, he wondered why he hadn't seen it earlier. New Orleans was a big city, but it wasn't that big. Of course, the professor would send him on the same mission as Jean. Why hadn't he put two and two together? He turned his head from her to the youth at his side. He remembered seeing a picture of the boy during a report about dangerous mutants and some playground incident, but he had dismissed it as another example of anti-mutant journalism. Who knew that the story would be critical to his next post? 

But he couldn't dwell on details forever. The point was that the very woman he wanted to talk to--but was scared to death to do so--was standing in front of him, looking like she might break down in tears at any moment. 

"Jean, I--" 

"Don't. Say. A. Word. Not one word." 

Scott could sense confusion coming off of the boy. The kid probably didn't have a clue as to what was going on, but he was still there. Scott furrowed his brow. Jean seemed to be on edge, but she would lose it in front of a child, would she? Perhaps it was best to avoid confrontation, and ignore her for now. 

"Say, kid," 

The boy--Franklin, was it?--looked up at him with a small frown. 

"Could you hang up my coat for me? In this humidity, I shouldn't need it." 

"Who _are_ you, mister?" 

"I'm Mr. Summers." 

That statement seemed to be the last straw for Jean, and she turned on her heal and fled from the room. Scott winced like a man taking a daunting wound as he began to remove his coat, revealing his casual uniform. The boy seemed to recognize what the X-logo stood for, and took his coat. But he didn't look happy about it. 

"So, you're with the X-men?" 

"Yes." 

The boy's anger seemed to turn to confusion. 

"Sir...why did you make Jean so sad that she cried?" 

"People don't just cry when they're sad, son. They cry when they're angry, too." 

Somehow, the boy seemed able to understand that. 

________________________________ 

Sage did not understand. How could she have lost track of time so quickly? She should have been waiting and watching...not playing games with a little boy's robotic pet. But there in her message box was the letter from her contact--and the letter had been sitting there for hours. She quickly opened the message to read it, only to have her worst fears confirmed. 

"Remy!" 

She burst open the door, rampaging down the hallway. According to her contact, Doom had taken on a false identity and used it to book a plane ticket to the United States. He had arrived in New York and laid low for a small matter of days, and only the other day, had arranged for a private jet to fly him to the southern part of the country. The timing could not be coincidence. 

Sage's cry had caused the X-men to gather in the hallway. Most were already in their pyjamas, but there were a few exceptions. Somehow, Cyclops was there, dressed in the usual uniform. Jean also seemed quite mobile; Heather was not only dressed--but still wearing those light-tinted sunglasses... 

Sage froze where she was. 

"Take those off--NOW!" 

"Wot?" 

The human computer was nearly shrieking. 

"I said take them off!" 

Lifeguard gazed at her with utter annoyance and contempt. 

"I don't see why I should, you wear those red shades of yours alla the time." 

Sage did her best to calm herself. 

"Mine do not have hidden spy cameras in them! Now take those off!" 

The Aussie woman ripped the glasses off quick as lightning and handed them to the pale lady. Sage deftly placed her fingertip to the joint next to the lens and squeezed, crushing the hidden circuits. Sage immediately looked up to question Heather. The blonde-haired girl seemed a little frightened. 

"Where did you get these?" 

"I... I was at a sunglasses vendor when this man came up to me and handed 'em to me. They looked nice, an' I figured they were from the pile an' I'd overlooked 'em." 

"Did you notice anything strange or particularly hidden about the man?" 

"No." 

Sage's gaze turned inward in thought. 

"In that case, he was probably a mere henchman." 

Remy stepped forward. 

"Chere, do y'have any idea what's goin' on here?" 

Sage looked up as though awakened from a trance; she handed the printed-out letter to her Cajun teammate. 

"Doom is on the move. I have reason to believe that he is trying to capture Franklin as a final strike against the Fantastic Four. But, from the construction of Heather's 'sunglasses' it appears as though he has been monitoring us for some time. He knows we're onto him now, and is probably on his way to bring us to a confrontation. Remy, I have no idea what sort of forces he has on hand. We are not ready for such a confrontation. We need some place to hide--and quickly." 

Scott prepared to open his mouth, only to have it shut against his will. Telekinetically shut against his will. He turned his head to Jean, but her eyes were focused soley on Remy. Slowly, it dawned on Summers: he was here to help, but Gambit was the leader. 

Remy looked towards Franklin. The boy was sitting on the floor next to where Rogue was standing. He held his arms around Robo-ben, as the cybernetic puppy nuzzled his neck. Both seemed scared, yet trusting. Remy looked up to speak. 

"I know a place. It'll take some social tuggin', but wit' enough persuasion, de guild will take us in." 

Scott's jaw dropped. 

"You mean the thieves and assassins?!" 

Remy stared past the visor, to look Cyclops in the eye. 

"De very same, Summers. De very same." 

________________________________ 

Victor Von Doom was not happy with it, but at least it was not unexpected. By the time he arrived with his team of lackeys, they X-men--along with the mutant he was looking for--were long gone. 

He had already sent his team to search the house. In the meantime, he had made himself comfortable in the living room, allowing himself the largest armchair. He was an important man, and it had to show with everything he did. 

________________________________ 

She should have known, but she didn't want to believe it: Bishop's credentials were fake. They had been well-made. Everything registered smoothly, with perfect paperwork. But the moment anyone tried to get in touch with an actual flesh-and-blood person who could refer Lucas as a diligent worker, they turned out to never be home, or to have never been born. 

Teri Baltimore pounded the hotel's bed-side table in frustration. He had most certainly _seemed_ honest. Based on the look on his face and the spark in his eye, she could have sworn before a court of jurors that he spoke the truth as he recounted his past adventures. And to think that Teri had always prided herself on being an excellent judge of character... 

She needed answers and she needed them quickly. Lucas Bishop might have been a man playing at being police officer, seeing how far he could fool the system. But, there was always that small chance that he might be something more, that he might be someone dangerous. She only hoped that the address he had given for where he was staying was not faked as well. According to the papers before her, it was a small, quiet house in the New Orleans'garden district... 

________________________________ 

...or perhaps not so small. And perhaps not so quiet. In fact, it looked like a super-villain crime scene. 

Teri hid behind a bush in the garden. She had approached the house from the back, hoping to spy on her former partner before making herself known. Instead, she found herself spying on the media's foremost Latverian: Doctor Doom. 

She had heard of him, but knew little of him. The question in her mind, was what business the politician had in Bishop's home. She watched the armored man retire inside the house, supposedly, to the living room. 

As soon as the man's lackeys were done scanning the back area, she ventured forth. She was certain that she'd gotten the address right, but there was no sign of her mutant 'friend' on the premises. Was Bishop this man's ally or enemy? Teri had to know, and she had to get closer to find out. 

She slipped into the house, and headed for--what she hoped--was the living room. Indeed, there was Doom. He seemed to be giving some sort of information or instructions to someone over a cell phone. She leaned in closer to hear, only to have the boards beneath her feet betray her as they let out a squeak. 

Before she could fully register it in her mind, Doom had both of Teri's hands in his large fist. He forced her to hold her arms above her head as he looked her over. One of his men came up behind her, holding a cloth over her mouth and nose, making everything they said to her seem disjointed and fuzzy. 

They said something about keeping her as a hostage....something about X-men...mutants...a boy...a thief. 

Teri turned her head to take in one last image before her world went black, and it nearly broke her heart. 

Standing on a small coffee table near the TV set, was a framed photograph. And in that photograph was a picture of Lucas Bishop with that murderer--that mutant murderer--Remy LeBeau. 

________________________________ 

________________________________ 

A/N: My muse is a terribly inconvenient thing. She goes on vacation for over two weeks, and wacks me on the back of the head right in church Sunday morning! I could hardly pay attention to the sermon with the ideas she was pouring into my brain, and then she kicks back once I set myself at the computer. I'm sorry she's kept you waiting, but she's pretty much done the same to me. 

I'm actually very sorry that you guys had to wait so long for this chapter, but if it's any consolation, this has got to be the longest chapter I have every done. With enough hope--and just as many reviews--I may not be able to create as long a chapter, but a far more punctual one. 

PS. I realize that the URL I gave for the (small) gallery last post didn't show up, so hopefully, this 

I had to type it right next to "will" like that, so it would show up. The actual URL begins with "http..." 

PPS.Anyone still interested in joining the hit list so you can know when I update? 


	18. All in the Family

Disclaimer: Please note that this is _fan_fiction, not _owner_fiction.

**Jukebox--** Be careful about that nail-bitting. If you run out of nail, you might start on your finger, and if you lose your fingers, how can you click on the button to review?**Sue Penkivech--** My deepest apologies for the wait, I can only pray I made it worth your while.**Wishful Thinking2--** Glad to hear that you're healthy!**Rupeshwari--** Thank you.**xXrogue-demonXx--** Rogue seems too possessive? Or just possessive? Personally, I think she's trying to put Jean in her place.**Natural--**Remy's innocence is discussed this chapter. As for a confrontation between him and Teri, who's to say I've decided yet?**ManualImpact--** I think my eyes are lying to me. But your review seemed to insinuate that my writing was better than that of the great Chris Claremont himself! 'Scuse me while I rub my eyes some more...**T.--** Dude, you have got to be _the_ most faithful reviewer I've ever encountered!**Beaubier--**Well, wrote another chapter. Just thought I'd let ya know.**Jean1-- **The Jean/robot thing _was_ a flirting joke as far as I'm concerned. I only mentioned it as an example of Remy's flirtatious nature, and how much of a womanizer he was when he first joined Xavier's team. As for Lapin, I think you may find him to be a little _less_ mature than the group's resident child.

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CHAPTER 18: ALL IN THE FAMILY 

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He was sifting through a cardboard box of old games when he happened upon the box: Twister. A boyish grin crept onto Emil Lapin's face as he removed the puerile game from its container. Now all he needed was someone to play it with.

He scurried downstairs looking for someone to join him. He looked over his family: The United Guild of Thieves and Assassins. Granted, Emil was a thief, so he had never _really_ felt at home around the assassins, but he respected them well enough.

The one he respected most was the current guild mistress, Belladonna Boudreaux. She was playing cards with her main hit-man, Gris-gris, and Emil's older cousin, Theo. Lapin scratched his head. Cards was the closest those three ever came to playing games. Bella and Theo were definitely the serious sort, and Gris-gris would take any excuse to beat poor Emil up.

He looked beyond the card game for different options. Fifolet, Singer, and Questa,--being assassins--were out of the question. The only two people residing at the old house who might indulge him were Mercy LeBeau and Tante Mattie. Unfortunately, Tante was not the 'Twister-playing' type, and Mercy was out shopping.

Emil resigned himself to a night without Twister. Maudlin thoughts began to creep into his mind: things would be different if Remy were still around. His child-hood friend would never have allowed such dull nights to occur if he were still leading the guild.

Granted, Remy had been a little more serious that usual when burdened with the responsibility of guild patriarch. But, Emil could never forget the memories of long nights of pulling pranks, getting in trouble with Jean-luc, and tinkering with military jets....they were beautiful memories. 

Then the doorbell rang.

Everyone froze. The Guild hardly ever received guests, and they never entered by means of the ancient doorbell. No guild member had even been aware that the door _had_ a bell.

It rang again.

Emil remained still as Theo interrupted the card game to walk to the main door. Every member held their breath in anticipation and they heard the door slowly creaking open beyond the room.

"YOU?!?"

The guild members tensed as they heard the venom in Theo's voice a room away. There were a few other muttered whispers between him and the visitor until the door was finally opened all the way. Then the two men walked into the main room.

"REMY!"

Now Emil understood why it paid to drop coins into the fountain: you didn't get small wishes right away, they were saved up for when you wanted something big. He rushed to his cousin in the largest strides possible and swept him up into a bear hug, actually picking him up from the floor with his slightly smaller frame.

Beyond them, Theo was gritting his teeth. He and Remy had never gotten along, though no one seemed to understand exactly why, other than Remy himself.

"Merci, Deiu! I was jus' t'inkin' about ya, cuz! It was jus' sittin' dere, wit' a game a'twister, wonderin' if I'd ever see y' again! An' I did! I did! I--"

"Twister?"

Remy's mouth was curled into a curious smile at the red-head's antics when Emil realized that there were other people at the entry way.

Four women--all beautiful, four other men, and a little boy. One of the women looked familiar to Emil, and he smiled, realizing her identity.

"H'llo, chere, you mus' be--"

"Rogue!"

Emil turned to Belladonna's voice. The tension in the room raised as the knowledgeable recalled the history between the two women: Rogue had stolen Bella's memories, but in turn, Belladonna had killed Rogue's childhood companion, Cody Robins, under the instruction of the former Guild benefactress, Candra.

Surprizingly, Belladonna laid back into her chair, as though remembering some decision she had made.†

"Welcome. T'what do we owe de pleasure o' dis lil' meetin'?"

"Sanctuary, Ah'm afraid." Rogue replied, relieved.

"Explain."

Bishop stepped forward.

We have a power-hungry despot tailing us who wants--" he pointed to Franklin "--this child. He holds a grudge against the boy's parents, and it's up to us to keep him away. Remy is the child's gardian."

Belle snorted.

"Gardian?" She stared at Remy. "Dis Remy LeBeau we talkin' about? A Gardian? De man could barely look after a group o' adults!"

"Dat's stoopin' kinda low, Belle." Remy retorted.

"Only as low as is appropr'ate. 'Sides, why should we own any o' you X-men sanctuary? Never said we'd be takin' you in anyways, so why should we?"

"Because yeh're kind and benevolent people, and yeh _don't_ wanna get yeh eyeballs scratched out."

Lifeguard switched off her image inducer, momentarily surprising the guild matriarch. She bore a slightly feral expression, and twitched her massive wings and claws in anticipation.

Belladonna held gaze with the woman's avian eyes. She saw something she liked: ferocity to match her own. Surprising all the others, the assassin smiled.

"True. I have had use f'my eyesight on occasion. Consider de hostin' of dis party t'be a sign of m'good will. Questa!"

The shape-shifter trotted up to her side.

"Lead dese people to de guestrooms--firs' grab, firs' get."

The X-men allowed themselves to be led into the depths of the Guild safe house. Remy lagged behind a moment, flashing the matriarch a smile of gratitude before following and catching up to take Rogue's hand.

Belladonna watched after him, hanging her head a little in acknowledgement. She suppressed a sigh, knowing that gratitude was the most he would ever offer her again.

________________________________

Teri Baltimore awoke the strangest conversation.

"No, Grigori--I've tolden you--KFC does chicken right, _Wendy's_ is one lets you have it your way!"

"It's _telled_! Learn correct English, Stan! When in Rome..."

"We are in New Orleans, idiot!"‡

_ Bolts fer brains, those blokes..._ Teri groggily thought to herself. _Spent 'nough time 'round to know that Burger King lets you have it your way..._

Teri's mind eventually began to realize the situation. She was tied to a chair, and she couldn't even wriggle her wrist. The room was rather dark, and she guessed that she was hearing the voices of her guards.

She turned the situation over in her mind once more. When she had met Lucas, he seemed fully absorbed into the LeBeau case. The case dealt with a series of mafia lord murders with the only clue being a trademark joker from a card deck. The prime suspect was Remy LeBeau, a mutant thief, who had been near the mafia lords at the time and used such cards in his work. No one had ever found any conclusive evidence that LeBeau had killed, or even stolen from anyone. Eventually, a new lead led to the culprit: an old usurper named 'The Examiner'. 

But just because he wasn't guilty in that particular case--and had never been _caught_ doing anything illegal--didn't make LeBeau an innocent. What frightened Teri the most was the thought that Lucas might have specifically put himself on the job to find an alternative to LeBeau's arrest. She clearly recalled the photograph she had seen before passing out. Both men were smiling, happy, and quite comfortable in the other's presence. They were friends, old friends.

Her gut twisted. There was only one thread of hope left in her. It was the thought that perhaps--LeBeau _wasn't_ guilty, and that Lucas had sought to prove his innocence. But the Australian police woman hung her head once more, considering the unlikelihood of the thought.

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Record File: Engage. This is Cyclops recording. I'll probably have Gambit do the next entry, seeing how he's the "field leader" for this "mission". Doctor Victor Von Doom seems to be after Franklin Richards who has sought sanctuary with the X-men.

Currently, we've been forced to retreat to the United Guild of Thieves and Assassins. The mansion isn't quite as large as Xavier's, but it's impressive nonetheless. We've been led to the West wing where the guest rooms are kept. Jean and I didn't introduce ourselves as husband and wife, so we've been given separate rooms. LeBeau was supposed to return to his old room in the thieves' end of the place, but opted instead to take a room right next to Rogue's.

I know it's not protocol to use this as anything more than a historical record, but I feel like talking, and it's not like anyone besides me bothers to read these things anyway.

Perhaps it will make me feel better to admit some things. Namely, I'm jealous of Remy. It's strange, but thinking of him as "Remy" is entirely alien to me. I've never even pretended to understand him, and I've never really liked him, so thinking of him as "Gambit" has always been more than enough for me. But jealous of him? That's something new.

Sometimes, I'd give almost anything to begin all over again with Jean. Other times, I don't even want to think about her. LeBeau's relationship with Rogue seems utopian in comparison. He even has the beginnings of a family all his own--regardless of weather he sees it or not. I've checked with Sage, and seen that Franklin is actually Gambit's ward. He might as well be his son for how attached the boys already is to both him and Rogue.

I had a son once. But I was forced to give him away to the time-traveling Askani. When he came back, I didn't have a son as before. I had a soldier who hardly ever talks to me anymore. Not that we ever had any especially lengthy conversation.

And then there's the "field leader" thing. By checking the records--and I suspect that I'm the only one who bothers to do that--I found out that during the time I was gone, Gambit was the leader. Not only that, but he was acting as leader of the Guilds at the same time! The X-men knew this! And they let him be FIELD LEADER?!

I...I really shouldn't let my emotions get the better of me. No sense in bringing the people I talk about knocking on my door. But... I'm actually finding this therapeutic. I used to tell Jean everything. Now that we've become...estranged..., I find myself without a confidant.

It all comes back to Jean, doesn't it? The thing that--irritates--me most, is that she's hiding behind Remy. I try to look at her, and she pretends to be absorbed into whatever LeBeau is saying. I heard that while I was gone, she was one of the people who _never_ complained about his duration as field leader. She's using his unspoken--mind you, it _is_ unspoken--authority as a shield. She hides behind it to avoid me.

But does Gambit even know this? Does he know that Jean is hiding behind him to avoid me? That she hangs around him like a moth and its flame? Is he doing this for her due to some sort of friendship that's grown between them, or does he really not understand why she acts the way she does around him? Or has he even noticed at all? Now it's Jean that I find myself envious of. If only I could know what my teammates are thinking...but enough rambling. If someone sees how long this entry is, they might grow curious and read an old entry for once. Heaven forbid.

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"Sis, we need to talk."

Heather slumped her shoulders. She and Davis had not spoken since she and Neal had broken him out of the hospital.

"What's to talk about?"

Davis bit his lip.

"Well, I'm ready t'stop avoidin' yeh."

Lifeguard snorted sarcastically.

"_You're_ ready? Oh, that's bloody brilliant, Davey! Let's stop the world from revolvin' around because _you're_ ready! What 'bout me? What if I'm not ready?"

She placed her hands on her hips, expecting him to back down.

"Y'can't scare me anymore, Heather."

She grabbed his collar and snarled in his face.

"Well how 'bout this, Davey: You an' me are both freaks, even for mutants! There are a lota bad blighters out there who'd like t'kill us jus' 'cause our father was some sort o' mafia boss. And, I dunno if anyone's made this clear t'yeh yet, but our mother was an alien from another planet! Maybe another universe! Top it off, an' she was royalty! Maybe there're dozens more who wanna kill us for that! Look at me! The only reason I'm runnin' lose on the streets is 'cause I've got a hologram t'hide what I really look like. That, an' I haven't hurt anyone yet. Not yet, but I want to, Davey. I want to! I see some bloke on the street, an' my new instincts kick in: I start thinkin' o' him as prey, an' how easy he'd be to kill. An' you say you wanna talk? Well, _you_ may wanna give this a lot o' thought, but I don't! I...I don't want to remember!"

She was crying now, and Davis could feel his own eyes beginning to tear.

"Oh, Heather...I...I didn't know..."

He reached his hand out to touch the metallic skin of her arm. She flinched away, but only at first. He grew bolder, and pulled her in for a hug. The adrenaline flew from her body, and Heather Cammeron suddenly felt very tired. Davis calmly held her weight as she clung to his shirt and slumped against him. He gritted his teeth in sympathetic silence as his sister's claws dug into his shoulder.

_________________________________________

"Ya planned this, didn't ya?"

"Moi? Chere, y'cut me t'de quick."

Remy and Rogue were in their respective guest rooms. Almost upon walking in, Rogue discovered that she could hear Remy's voice through a grate between their rooms. It seemed to her that he had recommended this room to her specifically for that reason.

"Thank ya." 

"What for?" 

"Bringin' us here. It must be hard for ya." 

"Some bad memories here, chere, some good. 'Specialy good seein' Emil and Tante 'gain." 

"Emil—the read-headed one, right? Emil Lapin?" 

"Oui." 

"Ah think Ah saw him makin' eyes at Sage." 

"Or tryin' to." 

Gambit gave an amused chuckle. 

"What's so funny, sugah?" 

"Lapin's a computer hacker" 

Rogue laughed, and then yawned. 

Eventually, Remy could hear her breathing slow as she drifted off into the world of dreams. Only then did he allow himself to become upset; he was so close, but still too far! With every hour he grew more aware of the presence of the ring in his trench coat pocket. But as much as he wanted to ignore protocol, he couldn't propose to Rogue in front of all the guild members.

Belladonna had barely allowed the X-men to stay, and through no machinations of his own. Given the history that he shared with her-their courtship, marriage, her seeming death, their parting of ways, and her still-lingering affection for him-to propose to Rogue now would be a slap in the face to the assassin matriarch. She would kick him and the X-men out of the house without a second thought, leaving them shelterless once again.

He rolled over in his futile efforts to sleep. No one had taken his old room, but he had decided to stay in the guest wing so he could be near Rogue. He nearly regretted it, for he recalled his own mattress to be far more comfortable than the one he was twisting on. Deciding to give up on sleep, Remy settled for simply lying in silence. Light breathing and the lingering presence of a little blonde-haired boy outside his door, however, were interrupting the silence.

"Come in, Franklin."

The creaking of the door was rather loud to his furtive ears, but the child ignored it, dragging a wool blanket, and teddy bear, and a thick book.

"What's dat?"

"It's a book."

"Well, I can _see_ dat, mon ami, but what are it an' y'self doin' in m'room?"

"You're gonna read it to me."

It wasn't a question or a request, merely a fact. The boy was quite confidant that he would have a story read to him tonight, and that this adult would do the job. Remy stared. He had never read a book to a child before and it had never occurred to him that it might be in the job description of legal guardian.

"How?"

"Well, you open it up, an' there's a story inside. You read it out loud, an' when a person in the story talks, you make up a funny voice to go with 'em, an' use that voice when you're readin' that person."

"Ok, den."

He opened the book to the title page: The Princess Bride.

Bride? Wonderful. He rolled his eyes. A story involving marriage. He opened to the first page and began in his best story-telling voice, trying desperately not to dwell on all the trouble the topic had caused him.

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Author's Notes: **MY GREATEST APOLOGIES FOR BEING LATE!** Ironically, it has been exactly two months (Yes, EXACTLY) since I've continued, and I can only continue to appologize. That said, will be you nice and review anyway?

PS. FINALLY got the URL to the RI gallery working! Go to my author page for the address!

PPS. Anyone still interested in signing up for my mailing list?


	19. But I Also Love You

Review Repsonses--

**Jukebox--**Well, I tried to avoid doing that two-month anniversary thing again...**Caliente--**Yes! I am alive! **Lady MR1--**I made it before March 15th! Woohoo! **Wishful Thinking2**--I am Christy S! You killed my muse! Prepare to die! **Manual Impact--**I've been in hiding...as for Remy and Scott...why don't you see for yourself? **T.--**Great ta see ya again!**xXrogue-demonXx--**I'm rather fond of Davis and Heather, and I really don't know why. But I know that not everybody is so happy with the Aussies, so I try to breathe as much character into them as possible. **giveGodtheglory--**No fear! Though it has endured the valley of the shadow of death, this fic continues to persevere.

Disclaimer: Please note that this is _fan_fiction, not _owner_fiction.

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CHAPTER 19: BUT I ALSO LOVE YOU 

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Franklin groggily opened his eyes to dawn's light streaming through the window. He did his best to ignore the light and smashed his face back into his pillow. Except it wasn't a pillow; it was an arm. Remy's arm to be precise. He looked at the sleeping grown-up. The Cajun had one arm tucked under his head beneath his pillow and the other extended with the hand dangling off the edge of the bed. It was the dangling one that Franklin had been resting his head on. Between the two of them was the book that Remy had been reading the night before. 

Lucky for Franklin, Remy didn't know the Grown-up Reading Rule: one chapter, and then make the child go to bed. So Remy had read on and on, his voice slowing with each page. Eventually, he had stopped reading in mid-sentence, and Franklin realized that his guardian had fallen asleep. Too comfortable to move from the warm mattress, Franklin had closed the book and reached up with his small arm to turn off the lamp. Thus had the two mutants retired for the night.

Now, he was awake and wondering if he should awaken his grown-up friend, or simply allow him to sleep. He then heard a gentle whisper through a grating next to the bed.

"Remy? Sugah, ya there?"

"Hey, Rogue!"

"Franklin?"

"Remy's asleep, should I wake him up?"

"Naw, that's okay, hun. What're ya doin' in Remy's room?"

"He was readin' ta me, an' we both fell asleep."

He heard a soft laugh from beyond the wall. Her next words were in a secretive voice.

"So Sugah, can ya answer me a question or two 'bout what the Cajun looks like when he's sleepin'?"

It didn't really make any sense to the boy why anyone would want to know such insignificant details, but he found himself complying.

"Sure."

"Does he drool on his pillow?"

"Lemme check."

He examined the pillow.

"Yup."

He heard an amused giggle from her direction, and a slow grown from his guardian.

"Dat was one piece of info she didn' need t'know, pup."

"You're awake!"

"Seems so."

Rogue spoke again.

"Plan ta join us for mornin' lessons, Remy?"

" 'Fraid I can't, chere. Accordin' t'Cyke, I'm de current field leader, so I gotta put a report t'gether. An' 'm afraid y'can't eit'er, since Jean's tellin' me in m'head dat she want's t'talk t'ya."

"This early?"

"Seems so."

________________________________

She stood on the beach. The waves were crashing along the sandy shores of Surfer's Paradise. Davey was far away, surfing a wave. Coming towards her from the distance was a flying saucer. It landed in front her, with a door opening. Sage was inside, extending her hand. As she stepped on, Davis waved from the shore, telling her to remember to buy him a T-shirt when she came back. She stepped into the flying saucer, only to find herself in Madripoor. 

She looked down to discover that she didn't have a stitch of clothing on. She extended her wings to cover herself, only to be met with mocking laughter from Lady Mastermind. Eventually, Lady Mastermind wasn't laughing at her anymore, but at Remy. Gambit was bound in chains on a cold stone floor. She reached to save him, but he only fell further away--back into the clutches of alien invaders. She turned around, and there was Sage--in a lifeguard's outfit. She flew at the human computer in a rage, but the woman shapeshifted, and became her father--her dead, biological father. She screamed in fright, backing away into a dark corner. 

She looked up at the sound of a soothing voice. It was Neal's voice, and he was talking about his dead girlfriend, Elizabeth. She listened with rapt attention, till he turned to her and looked into her eyes and told her she was beautiful. She grew furious and clawed at him. Bleeding from her swipe, he told her she was beautiful again. She clawed at him again, screaming as she did so. He kept telling her she was beautiful, and she continued to claw at him, till she could feel his life-force slipping away with each movement of her arm till finally...

"NO!"

Heather Cammeron cried out into the darkness, recovering from her nightmare. She covered her face with her hands as she listened to the thump of running feet outside her door. She blinked as the door opened to reveal a bit of morning's light. Neal blocked the rest of it.

"Heather? Are you alright? I heard a shout...!"

She looked up. He was fine. He was breathing heavily, and there were no claw marks on his tanned skin. And he was as concerned about her as ever. Realizing his importance, she began to cry. He sat down next to her, and embraced her.

"It's okay; it's okay. Shhhh...you're fine now. It was only a dream; it's okay."

"No, it's not." She muttered into his chest. She then pulled away, "I've been abusing you."

"What?" he looked at her incredulously.

"I have," She admitted, "I've been ignoring you, been mean to you, an' 'ave been an over-all blighter to yeh. An' yeh've been so supportive.." She let out a small sob, "An then I saw you die! An' it was all my fault...!"

He gently cradled her head with his hand.

"No one's dead, Heather. We can make this work; you'll see."

"I...I hope so. 'Cause y'know what, Neal?" She looked up at him.

"What?"

"I want to."

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Rogue didn't want to do it, but she approached Jean in one of the secluded chambers.

"Ya wanted ta talk ta me, Jeanie?"

"Yes. This is about Franklin...and his coming to the institute."

Rogue frowned.

"Ah thought we had an understandin' about this."

"We did: We don't talk about it; Franklin is here, and since I'm here too, there's no fuss about it. But there's a problem: I don't want to stay, and I expect to take Franklin with me when I leave."

"Is this b'cause of Scott, Jean? 'Cause Ah thought ya were stronger than that."

"This is not about Scott or me, this is about Franklin."

"You think Ah can't take care of him?"

"He's not your son, Rogue."

The moment Jean said it, she regretted it. Rogue's eyes began to tear up, and her face read as though she had just been slapped. _'Where did that come from?'_ Jean wondered to herself._ 'How could I say something so cruel?'_ The thought was interrupted by Rogue's voice. The woman sounded considerably subdued.

"Ya right Jean. He's not my son." She seemed to choke on her own voice. "But, he's not yours either. He's Remy's boy. And Remy will ultimately decide where Franklin will go, an' you'll have no say in it. There are many kids at that institute, but Franklin's not gonna be among 'em. An' personally," She sobbed, "Ah think this recruitment thing is just your way of dealin' with the fact that you an' Scott have no children of your own!"

With the southern woman's last words resounding in her ears, Jean was barely aware of the sound of Rogue's feet stomping away and slamming the chamber door.

How dare she? How dare she even _think_ such a thing, much less say it! How could she communicate something so thoughtless, so insensitive...so mean...so true. She rubbed her weary temples. Jean Grey-Summers was the den-mother of the X-men and always had been. As a teenage girl, she had fallen deeply in love with the X-men field leader, Scott Summers, and had often fantasized about what it would be like to become the mother of his sons and daughters. As time passed, and they were eventually married, Scott began to share her dream. Together, they began to await a moment in which they could retire and start a family. The more often they encountered their offspring from alternate time-lines, the more certain the couple became about their own future together. When it seemed as though Scott had died at the hands of Apocalypse, Jean's dreams had been brutally shattered. Only upon learning he was alive again, did she allow the age-old hopes to resurface. But it was not meant to be, because Scott had changed.

Apocalypse had shown Scott things that a man as hopeful as Cyclops should not have to see. It caused Scott to wonder about the darker side of his own nature. He began contemplating fears and doubts that--previously--he would have dismissed as soon as they came. Jean was patient at first. He had suffered, and needed time to recover. But he was colder now--abusively so. She had asked him to confide in her, and he had responded that if she wanted to know what he was thinking, she should just read his mind. Her Scott would never have said such a thing. Soon, it started going both ways: She also distanced herself from him. Before she knew it, the mansion was buzzing gossip about a tryst between Mr. Summers and Ms. Frost. 

How could children come from such a marriage?

________________________________

_'How could Ah say somethin' like that?_

Rogue pondered this as entered the game room of the Guild's safehouse.

"Trust me, mon ami, you ain't got de skills t'survive unless you can hack a computer."

Rogue shook herself free from her maudlin musings to look at the scene before her. Scott Summers was grinding his teeth in frustration at Emil Lapin's antics. Both men had taken it upon themselves to be Franklin's instructors for the day. Unfortunately, both men had very different ideas of how they should go about it.

Scott was by-the-book as always. He wanted to work with the curriculum that Rogue had written out that included standard reading, writing, arithmetic, geography, and history. These were the topics in which children were educated to receive a better understanding of the world.

Emil, however, found those subjects to be incredibly boring. So he had turned the math lesson into a fencing lesson, the English lesson into a lock-picking lesson, the geography lesson into a hot-wiring lesson, and was now trying to turn the history discussion into a computer-hacking lecture. Franklin just laughed at the friction between the two adults.

"Tha hen has returned ta the coop, fellas. No need to keep sittin' on this weary egg any more."

Relieved to end the argument, Scott stood up from his chair and headed toward the training facility. Lapin, however, didn't take they hint.

"Emil, if ya'd be so kind, Ah'd like to talk to Franklin alone fer a while please."

"Oh? Well, see y'aroun', chere. Um, do y'know where dat dark-haired lady-friend o' yours be stayin?"

"Third room ta the left in the guest wing. But watch the flirtin', sugah. Ya aggravate her, and you'll be introduced ta her mean left-hook."

"I be on m'guard den, and merci!" With a cheerful wave, he headed for the guest room.

"Hey, honey." 

Rogue sat down on the couch next to Franklin. She patted the spot next to her, and he hopped on. She looked at him for a minute. _'He's not your son, Rogue'_ But she wanted him to be. She wished she could claim some relation to that fluffy blonde hair, those baby-blue eyes, that way he childishly kicked his legs back and forth while waiting for her to say something. She remembered how scared he'd been of his first thunderstorm under her roof. She recalled how he had come running to her bedroom and snuggled under the covers, using her arm as his personal pillow. But he wasn't hers.

"Franklin, do...do ya ever miss ya momma?"

"Yeah. Sometimes..."

He seemed to look at her more carefully after she lowered her eyes, turning her head away. A small light of comprehension seemed to glow on his childish countenance.

"...but I also love you."

She looked up, the adult taking comfort from the love of a child.

"Could Ah trouble you for a hug right now, darlin'?"

The boy placed his arms around her neck.

"Yeah. You could."

And she gently squeezed him back.

________________________________

The ropes were squeezing far too tight. But other than that, all was right in the world of Teri Baltimore. She was tied to a chair, being held captive by a demented egomaniac bent on world-domination, and putting up with the most ridiculous conversations possible from her jailers, but despite all this, she was floating on clouds.

Lucas Bishop was innocent.

Her less-than-genius guards had been the ones to reveal this to her. Their names were Stan and Greg Mengochauzchras†. They were former Latverian fugitives who had once worked with Remy LeBeau. They had become mercenaries and had been assigned to bring back Gambit's head on a platter. But it hadn't worked out, and before they knew it, they were working for LeBeau instead of against him. They became the official bodyguards of his friend, Sekmet O'Connoway, and when helping the Cajun on a time-traveling venture.‡ But in the process, they had been trapped in a reality warp from which LeBeau's girlfriend, Rogue, had managed to rescue them. Since then, they had lost their 'fugitive-hood' as they called it, and had rejoined Doom's ranks.

All this they had revealed in a conversation after a few beers and a card game. During the telling of the tale, they had complained about Gambit's morality, and how it had inhibited them when working with him. So Gambit was innocent after all, and by default, Bishop.

Teri relaxed in her chair. Now if only she had a means of escape...

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Davis and Ororo sat in the throne room, enjoying a pleasant breakfast. The kitchen and dining rooms were both too crowded with thieves and assassins for both their tastes. The throne room, however, was a magestic chamber which was hardly used anymore. At least since Gambit had left to return to the X-men.

Ororo sat back after enjoying her meal. She gently sipped her coffee, and placed the cup next to her plate. On it, were the remains of eggs, hash-browns, and an english muffin. Across from it, was Davis' soggy Coco Puffs remains in a bowl. The contrasting elegance and childishness showed clearly on their table as it showed in the appearance of the regal woman and the young man sitting across from her. And somehowe, it seemed to balance.

With a little coaxing, Storm had managed to convince her Australian companion to reveal a little more of his past. Specifically, some of his past relationships. Nothing really serious; mostly crushes. He had humiliated himself in order to get their attention.

"So what about you, Ororo? Got any former boyfriends waitin' 'round the corner to come and strangle me?"

"Well, you know about Kahn..."

Davis made face. "Yuck."

She smiled. 

"Victor Von Doom also expressed an interest in me one time when the X-men were battling him."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Really? Was there anyone you liked who _wasn't_ a power-crazed ding-bat?"

Her smile turned bittersweet.

"Yes. Yes, there was. His name was Forge."

Slipstream's face turned serious at the ominous note in her voice.

"Yeh loved him?"

"I would be his wife right now if he hadn't called off our marriage."

Davis grew concerned.

"What happened?"

"I held my freedom in very high regard back then. He'd asked me to marry him, and I had asked for time to decide. Joining with him would have meant leaving the X-men, or at least giving up leadership of the team. I needed time to let it sink in. Forge took my hesitation as a bad sign and became doubtful of my feelings for him. Mere minutes before I planned to find him and tell him my answer, he came to me and told me the engagement was off. I never got a chance to tell him that my answer was yes."

There were slight tears in her eyes as she recounted the memory. Davis reached for her hand.

"He was an bloody idiot for doin' that to you."

She smiled through her tears.

"I am glad you think so."

He lightly brushed her cheek with his hand.

"No, Ororo. I know so."

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Record File: Engage. Dis be Gambit. I'd give de standard report first, but nothing's changed much about de situation, and Cyclops did a pretty good job of describin' it de first time. An' speakin of Cyclops...Scott, y'dead wrong homme. I do read de back entries, an' you an' Remy 're gonna have a loooonnngg talk when I find you.

In fact, y'can count on it.

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Author's Notes: I'm not going to say I was late this time, because I never set a specific date for when I would next post a chapter. As far as I'm concerned, I was just taking my time. After all, it's not like you guys had to wait another two months, right? However, you guys do have my appologies for the little marked notes I had last chapter that I never explained. If you go back to chapt. 18, you'll see had some mini-thoughts to mention about Belladonna and the Mengo bros: †I can't expect everyone to be as deeply delved into the comics as I can, so for anyone who wonders, Belladonna made the decision to stop hating Rogue in Gambit ish #19 with the thought: "--can't blame her now, wantin' a taste of somethin' normal for herself." ‡Major points to anyone avid enough to tell me where I'm paraphrasing this from!

As for the little marks this chapter...

†Any old fans of the Gambit comic out there?

‡This same venture was the reason the Avengers called on Remy to help investigate the time-displacement of the Fantastic Four when they handed Franklin over to him. Isn't it nice how I manage to tie this all together?

Also, I'd love it if people would tell me what they think about the illustrations I did for this story. The link to them is posted on my little author section. If people could tell me what scenes they'd like to see me draw a picture of from the story, that'd be great.

PS.Anyone still interested in signing up for my mailing list?


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